


Of Rockstars and Angels

by Funtimewriter



Series: Falling Stars [2]
Category: Adam Levine (Musician), Blake Shelton (Musician), Supernatural, The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Angel/Human Relationships, Angelic Grace, Angelic Lore, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF Blake Shelton, Bobby Singer Deals With Idjits, Bobby Singer Lives, Canon-Typical Violence, Confused Castiel, Corruption, Dean Winchester in Denial, Don't Have To Know About Supernatural (TV), Enemies to Friends, Established Relationship, Family Drama, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Illustrated, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Keep Your Eyes On The Moon, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Kissing, Prison, Protective Castiel, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Spoilers, The Author Regrets Nothing, Unrequited Love, Witchcraft, Yeah It's Gonna Hurt, long separation, my world my rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-03-28 13:12:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 123,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13904733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funtimewriter/pseuds/Funtimewriter
Summary: Already devastated by Blake's disappearance, Adam must now cope with the presence of an angel.  While rumors and suspicions fly, Adam clings to two facts - Castiel is the only one who can get Blake back.  And the angel's unusual power is the only thing keeping Adam from falling completely apart.  Castiel is sweet, caring, and almost childlike in his innocence at times.  But there is one thing Adam must never forget - this is a powerful, deadly warrior of God.





	1. The Trials and Tribulations of a Fallen Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to part two! As previously stated, this part of the story will start just after the events at the beginning of "Waiting For A Star To Fall" and progress from there, following the characters remaining behind after Blake disappeared. It will cover the same 28 day period, up to and including the night of the second full moon and the events covered in "Star."
> 
> I wasn't going to post this just yet, but hey, it's Adam Levine's birthday, so here we go! Unfortunately, my real life is in quite a bit of upheaval right now, so the near-daily updates may not happen here. Please bear with me. As always, kudos, comments, criticism, and flames are all welcome and will be replied to on the media and in the spirit in which they are received. Contact information is in my profile. Enjoy!

            Castiel, distracted by the disaster of the tall man being accidentally sent to his world while he himself was trapped here, hadn’t expected the shorter man to stab him again.  The pain was intense, the Enochian blade searing as nothing else could, spilling out some of his Grace in a wave of light.  He screamed in pain and wrestled the blade away.  He’d been lucky.  If Castiel hadn’t been turning, if the angle of the blade had been just a bit off, he might have been killed.  As it was, the blade went shallow.  Unfortunately, that didn’t mean it hurt any less.  And after the hit his Grace had just taken from the spell, it was the last thing Castiel needed.  Crowley’s doing, him and his mother.  Crowley had told Castiel the bag would drain some of his grace to power the spell, but naturally he’d neglected to mention just how much.  It had been all Castiel could do to keep his feet, and that had resulted in his being too slow to grab the bag in time.  Next time he saw them, Castiel vowed, they’d have an extensive discussion about it.  But right now, he had more pressing issues.

            The tattooed man, Castiel thought the taller man had called him Adam, had completely lost control.  He was lunging at Castiel and trying to stab him again.  Castiel gently wrestled his blade away, tossed it aside, and then wrapped his arms around the thrashing man, holding him in a reverse bear hug.  “Calm down,” he told him.

            “Fuck you!”  Adam threw his head back, and Castiel barely had enough time to move before the back of Adam’s head would have impacted his nose.  “Let go of me!  Bring him back!  _Blake!”_

            Blake was apparently the taller man, the one Adam had called “Big Country.”  Castiel had no idea why he’d been dressed as a cowboy.  Whoever he was, he was apparently important to his host, as Adam was very upset.  The two were obviously close.  Castiel frowned and tightened his arms around Adam in sympathy.  “I’m sorry, but that isn’t possible.”

            For some reason, this did nothing to calm Adam.  He screamed and kicked and fought, cursing at Castiel, demanding to be released, making slanderous observations about Castiel’s mother, and trying all in his power to break free.  He was definitely upset.  Castiel calmly held him, waiting for him to wear himself out.  Finally, Adam dissolved into sobs and sagged in Castiel’s arms.  “Please!” he pleaded.  “Please, just bring him back, or send me to wherever he is!”

            “I’m afraid that isn’t possible, either.”

            And then Adam was fighting again.

            Castiel patiently held on.  By now, Adam was hoarse and panting.  His body shook from exertion.  He was covered in sweat.  But at least he was finally still.  “Is it safe to let you go, or are you going to attack me again?” Castiel asked.

            Adam nodded.  “Let me go,” he croaked.  “I’m done.”

            Castiel let him go.  Adam wrapped his arms around himself.  He took a few wobbly steps forward.  And then he collapsed, falling forward onto his hands and knees before dropping completely to the floor, sobbing his heart out.  “Damn you!” he hiccupped.  “I wish I’d left you in that fucking crater!”

            Reminding the distraught human that leaving him in the crater was exactly what Castiel had told him to do in the first place served no purpose.  Adam likely wasn’t in any mood to listen anyway.  Best to just let Adam continue to calm.  Then the two of them could discuss their options going forward.

            Castiel retrieved his blade, cleaned it, and replaced it in its sheath on his wrist.  Then he moved to the window.  Already, his Grace had replenished itself.  That was a relief, but at the same time it was highly unexpected.  Given his past history with Crowley, Castiel would have expected lingering effects that the King of Hell could exploit.  But he felt fine.  Better than fine, actually.  And that was decidedly odd.  Castiel frowned to himself, remembering the details of the enchantment on the hex bag.  The fact that Blake had taken it and was now most likely back in Castiel’s universe was a serious problem with sobering possibilities.  It was absolutely something Castiel was going to have to address.  But unfortunately, it would have to wait for now.

            He clasped his hands behind his back and looked out into the night.  The landscape was bathed in the light of the full moon as it peeked through gathering clouds, but Castiel barely noticed.  What Dean called “Angel Radio” was complex, but powerful.  It allowed the angels to communicate from anywhere in Heaven or on Earth.  Castiel should have been able to reach the angels of this world.  But something was wrong.  He could sense them, could almost hear their communications, but not quite.  It was as if his “radio” was just slightly out of tune.  If Castiel had needed any further proof that he was in the wrong reality, this was it.  He couldn’t reach Heaven.  It was also unlikely that the angels of this realm would seek him out.  He was on his own.

            That was not good.

            Castiel had met his own death many times.  He’d taken on demons, angels, and otherworldly beings.  He’d faced smitings from archangels and Lucifer himself.  He’d gone against beings so powerful he’d felt like little more than a flea.  But always, he’d had someone at his side.  Now, for the first time in his long existence, he was alone.  As an angel from another universe, he was painfully aware of how much of a target this would make him now.  And he had no idea how to deal with it.  He could keep a low profile, do his best not to draw attention to himself.  But surviving in this world, and ultimately finding a way back home, would be difficult alone.

            Of course, he wasn’t entirely alone.  Behind him, Adam was crying softly on the floor.  Adam, who had only tried to help him.  The cowboy, Blake, was someone clearly close to Adam.  Now Adam appeared to be suffering deeply from his loss.  Adam was in need of help, and in return, Adam might be willing to continue helping Castiel.  He needed an ally, someone who knew and understood this reality.  He needed Adam.

            But first, it seemed Adam needed him.  And Adam’s need was far more pressing.

            Castiel turned, went over to Adam, and crouched down at his side.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

            “Yeah, well, guess what, asshole?  That’s not going to bring my husband back!  So unless you’ve got a plan to get Blake back, why don’t you just go fuck yourself?”  The words were harsh, but there seemed to be no emotion behind them.  Adam sounded numb.  He’d fallen onto his side and was curled up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest as he stared off into space.  His face was drenched, his hazel eyes red and swollen.

            Ah, a husband.  No wonder Adam was so upset.  Castiel frowned in sympathy.  He reached for Adam, wanting to comfort, but Adam swung at him and rolled over, putting his back to the angel.  “Leave me alone!”

            “Oh, excuse me,” Castiel said humbly.  “I’ll just…”

            From somewhere in the house, a chime rang.  Castiel looked around, wondering what it meant?

            “It’s the front gate.”  Adam’s hoarse voice explained.  “Someone’s outside.”

            “Oh.  Um, should I tell them to leave?”

            “Who gives a shit?”  Despite the use of a word Dean and Sam had always spat in anger, Adam’s voice remained listless.

            “Oh.”  Castiel frowned.  The chime rang again.  Someone was outside, and Adam didn’t seem to care who it was.  Castiel decided that he should probably check on that.  Adam was clearly in no shape for visitors.  The best option was likely to simply ask the visitor to leave.  Nodding to himself, Castiel got up and headed towards what he assumed was the front door.

            When he opened the door, he was greeted with flashing lights.  Two uniformed police officers were standing outside the gate.  One of them shined a light in Castiel’s face as he approached.  “You the homeowner?”

            “No,” Castiel told them.  “I’m afraid the homeowner isn’t able to deal with your visit right now.”

            “Why not?”

            Good question.  “Well, um, he’s had a rather trying evening.  Please leave and come again another time.  Perhaps tomorrow?  He may be better able to accommodate your visit in the morning.”

            It was perfectly reasonable request.  But Castiel saw their shoulders straighten, their eyes narrow as they exchanged a look.  He’d been around humans enough to recognize that this body language meant they were suspicious of something.  That meant they were unlikely to simply leave.  Alright then.  “Is there something I can help you with?” Castiel asked pleasantly.  He smiled, and let his hands fall to his side, clearly empty.  That should signal he was no threat and willing to cooperate.

            “Who the hell are you?” one officer asked rudely.

            “Castiel,” Castiel explained.

            “Castiel?  That a first name or a last?”

            “It’s just my name,” Castiel told him.

            “What, like Madonna?”

            “Actually, Madonna’s name is Madonna Ciccone,” Castiel explained.  Metatron had been anything but good company, but at least he’d provided a lot of trivia that occasionally came in handy.

            The officer with the flashlight indicated the gate.  “How about you open this gate?”

            “Oh, yes, of course!  Um…”  Castiel looked around.  There was an electronic keypad, but he had no way to know the code.  He fiddled with it a bit with no results.  “There doesn’t seem to be any way to open this gate that doesn’t require the code,” he told the two officers.  “I’m afraid I can’t get it opened.  Sorry.  Maybe if you come back tomorrow?”

            “So how did you get in?” the second officer asked.

            Now that was a tricky question.  Dean had once explained that lying was how humans got to be President, which hadn’t made sense to Castiel at the time and still didn’t.  Would Adam want to be President someday?  Didn’t matter.  Now was certainly the time for lying.  He’d also learned that the best lies contained a nugget of truth.  Time to get creative.  “Adam let me in,” he explained.  “I’m a friend of his.”

            “And he didn’t tell you the code?”

            “Um, no, not yet.  We just met.”

            The officer cocked her eyebrow.  “You just met, and you’re already such good friends that he let you in his house?”

            Castiel smiled.  “That’s right.”

            The first officer was shining his flashlight over the front of the house.  “Where are Shelton and Levine?”

            He had no idea who they were, but that shouldn’t be a problem.  “They’re not here right now,” he explained pleasantly, glad to be able to tell the truth this time.  “It’s just me and Adam in the house.  I can have them call you when they return, if you wish?”

            The flashlight immediately went back into his face.  “It’s just you and Adam, but Shelton and Levine aren’t here?”

            “Sorry, and I don’t know when they’ll be back,” Castiel apologized.  “Can I perhaps take a message?”

            Once again, the officers exchanged a look.  Then they turned back to Castiel.  “We need to talk to Adam.”

            “He really isn’t able to visit with you right now.  Could you please come back…?”

            “We need to talk to him.”  The officer’s tone broached no resistance.  “Now.”

            “Oh.”  Castiel sensed that things were not going well.  More police cars were arriving, coming up to the gate and dispensing more officers.  Several of them had their hands on the butts of their weapons as they approached the gate, their eyes warily on Castiel.

            Humans rarely acted on their thoughts.  The human mind was typically a jumble of random thoughts, music, images, and emotions.  For that reason, Castiel rarely peeked.  But sometimes, being able to sense thoughts came in handy.  He reached out now, and didn’t care at all for what he found.  These officers were very much on edge.  They all believed that something serious had taken place, and that he, Castiel, was involved.  Already, they were considering ways to force the gate and arrest him.  Clearly this was turning into a problem.  Castiel knew he had little to fear from human law enforcement, but he didn’t want to cause more trouble for Adam.  It was unfortunate, but Adam would likely have to speak with these officers.  Castiel glanced back towards the house.  “Um, let me go talk to him.”

            “Yeah, you do that,” the officer encouraged.  “And if you’re not back in five minutes, we are coming in!”

            “Oh.”  This was definitely not going well.  “Alright, I’ll be right back.”

            Their only response was a set of hard, untrusting glares.

            Castiel quickly returned to the house and found Adam just as he’d left him.  He knelt down to speak with the distraught man.  “Adam?”

            “Leave me the fuck alone!”

            “Adam, there are several police officers out there, with more arriving by the moment,” Castiel told him.  “They’re insisting on talking to you.”

            “Why would…?  Oh.  Shit.”  Adam crawled to the overturned recliner and picked up the cordless phone that had been lying on the floor next to it.  The batteries had been jarred out of the phone, probably when it fell during the struggle.  “I forgot I called 911,” he grumbled.  “I can’t imagine what they heard!”  Adam replaced the batteries, reached up, and put the phone back on its cradle.  Then he stared at the blood now smeared onto his left hand.

            “It was on the floor,” Castiel offered helpfully.  “You crawled through it.”

            Adam simply stared.

            This would never do.  Adam needed to be able to talk to the police, and unfortunately Castiel didn’t have time to coddle him.  He knelt down and got his arms around Adam, who immediately started struggling.  “Stop!  Get your hands off of me!”

            “Adam?” Castiel began sternly as he lifted Adam and put him gently on the couch.  “You need to get a hold of yourself.  Now I’m sorry.  I never intended for any of this to happen tonight, and I’m especially sorry about what happened to Blake.  But know two things.  One, he’s with my friends, and my friends will take care of him.  And two, I will do everything that I can to help you get him back!  I promise you that!  Now please calm down?  I need you to go outside.  Here.”  He picked up a sweater he spotted lying nearby and all but forced it on Adam.

            Adam was watching him, but he didn’t resist or say a word.  He looked down at the sweater, and then back up at Castiel.  Then he simply let himself fall backwards on the couch, looking upset.  “Leave me alone.”

            “I’m afraid I can’t.  Adam, the police are just outside of your gate, and...”

            “I don’t care who’s outside the gate!  Fuck them!”

            “It’s not really negotiable.”  Castiel looked around, spotted a handkerchief on the floor, and carefully used it to gently wipe Adam’s face.  That was a mistake.  The handkerchief was apparently soaked with blood, and now Adam had blood on his face. 

            Adam snatched the handkerchief irritably away.  The hazel eyes looked hard at Castiel.  Then Adam did an odd thing.  He reached out and took hold of Castiel’s wrist, just beneath his sleeve.  And almost instantly, some of the tension drained from his face.  “Oh, thank you!  That’s so much better!”

            Castiel blinked in confusion.  Then he shook his head.  “Adam, I’m very sorry about all of this,” he began, “but you really need to go out and talk to the police.  They’re threatening to break in if you don’t talk to them.”

            Adam grimaced, still not letting go of Castiel’s arm.  He nodded.  “Yeah, I’ll go talk to them.” 

            “Do you think you should clean yourself up first?” Castiel suggested politely.  “Your face is…”

            “I really don’t give a shit how I look right now, ok?”  Adam let go of Castiel’s arm with obvious reluctance.  He rubbed absently at his face as he got up.  Now he had blood on both hands, all over his cheek, and smeared from the edge of his eye clear down his jaw.  Oblivious, he headed out the door.

            Castiel looked down at his wrist, noting the bloody handprint Adam had just left on his skin.  Then he followed Adam outside.

            When the police officers saw Adam, they got very excited.  Now everyone had his or her hand on the butt of a gun.  Castiel was ordered back.  He looked at Adam, who hesitated for a moment, and then irritably waved him back.  Fine.  Castiel obediently stepped back and waited by the house.  In retrospect, he probably should have been more assertive about Adam cleaning off the blood on his face and hands before stepping outside, but really, it was easy to explain.  He had no idea what all the fuss was about.

            Meanwhile, Adam had opened the gate and was speaking to the police officers.  They were shining their light on Adam’s face, and then on his hands.  Adam was shaking his head, looking upset.  Then they were gesturing towards the house.  Now Adam appeared to be in pain, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head again.  Castiel watched, torn.  This was his only potential ally.  Should he go to Adam, offer support?  Adam had indicated for him to stay back, but now the man was surrounded by police.  Several of them were giving Castiel dark looks.  Everyone appeared grave.  Surely, if Adam needed him, he would call or otherwise indicate it, wouldn’t he?

            As he was thinking this, a couple of officers, one male and one female, broke off from the group around Adam and approached Castiel.  Castiel offered them a pleasant smile and held up his empty hands.  That should indicate his willingness to cooperate in a peaceful manner.

            Immediately, both of the officers stilled, looking hard at the blood visible on Castiel’s wrist.  Their eyes grew hard as they returned their gaze to his face.  “What, exactly, is your relationship to Mr. Levine?” the female officer asked.

            “I’m a personal friend,” Castiel lied.

            “And when’s the last time you saw him?”

            “Um, earlier tonight?”

            “Earlier tonight.”  She exchanged a look with her partner.  Then she indicated Adam.  “And what about him?”

            “Yes, I’m a personal friend of Adam’s, as well.”  Castiel cheerfully waved to Adam and was ignored.

            “So you’re friends with both Adam over there, and Mr. Levine?”

            “That’s correct.  May I ask why you want to know that?”

            She looked again at her partner.  “You want the honors?”

            “Sure.”  The male jerked a thumb back over his shoulder.  “You see that guy over there, the one with blood all over his face and hands that probably matches the blood on your arm?  Your close personal friend, Adam?  That would be Mr. Levine.  Mr. Adam Levine, the singer?  Ringing any bells now, pal?!”

            “Oh!  Of course, Adam Levine, right.”  Now that made things easier.  “Yes, he’s a country singer, very popular.  That’s why he has the means to afford such a large home.”  Castiel felt much more sure of himself now, despite the fact that the officers were exchanging yet another look.  Bobby was a fan of Levine’s music, so he’d heard a number of his songs.  While Castiel couldn’t name any of the tunes, he could recognize them and even sing along with a few if necessary.  But that did explain the confusion.  He’d assumed that Adam and Levine were two different people.  No wonder the officers were staring at him in such naked suspicion.  “Please excuse me,” Castiel said humbly.  “I had an accident earlier tonight and I’m still a bit rattled.  That’s how I ended up here, actually, because Adam brought me home.”

            “I see.”  The man’s dark eyes were hard.  “And you reported this accident, filed a traffic report?”

            “Oh, it wasn’t a car accident.  I, well, I fell.  Bumped my head.”  That was true enough.

            The flashlight studied his head.  “I don’t see any injuries?”

            “I healed them,” Castiel told them.

            Once more, they exchanged a look.

            Fortunately, Adam came jogging over to rescue him.  “Hi,” Adam croaked, his voice still hoarse.  He took Castiel’s arm, again working his fingers to close around Castiel’s wrist beneath his sleeve.  Then he faced the officers, suddenly much more at ease.  “I’m really sorry about this,” Adam began.  “This is Castiel, and he’s a personal friend of ours.  Please excuse him.  He had an accident earlier tonight and hit his head, so whatever he says, well, he’s not himself.”  Adam squeezed Castiel’s arm as he spoke, obviously trying to indicate something.  Castiel wondered if Adam realized he’d just smeared more blood on Castiel’s unmarked wrist.  Somehow, Castiel doubted it.  “He was here at the house when Blake was taken,” Adam was saying, “but he was pretty out of it.  I doubt he could tell you any details.”

            Adam must really want to be President.  Apparently, Castiel was to pretend he didn’t know what happened tonight.  Alright.  Castiel nodded gravely.  “I couldn’t tell you any details at all,” he echoed.  The police officers who had been talking with Adam had followed him.  Castiel and Adam were suddenly surrounded.  But Adam remained remarkably calm.  His hand was tight around Castiel’s wrist.  Castiel had no idea what to make of that.

            “We came out here because someone at the house made a 911 call,” someone told them.  “There was a lot of shouting, sounds of a struggle, what sounded like a gunshot, and then the call cut off.  So we were understandably concerned about the welfare of those in the house.  Now Mr. Levine, would you please explain again exactly what happened tonight?”

            Adam started to say something, but it was lost in a harsh cough and a grimace of pain.  Castiel frowned.  Adam’s throat must be very painful.  Well, that was easy enough to fix.  Castiel reached up, touched his fingers to Adam’s forehead, and quickly healed him.

            The hazel eyes went very wide.  They turned and gawked at Castiel.  Nothing the angel hadn’t seen a million times before.  Humans tended to have similar reaction to witnessing healing via angelic Grace.  Castiel could have cleaned off the blood that still marred Adam’s face and hands and now both of his own wrists, but had chosen not to.  The disappearance of the blood before the eyes of all these police officers would be too much to try to explain.  But there was no need for Adam to continue to suffer pain when Castiel was standing right there.

            “Mr. Levine?”

            “Sorry!”  To Castiel’s surprise, Adam’s voice still sounded hoarse.  Ah, of course.  He didn’t want to have to explain angelic healing to these officers.  Castiel supposed he should have thought of that, but he’d been more interested in alleviating Adam’s pain.

            Adam began to tell an improbable story about intruders breaking into the house, struggling with the three of them, and then abducting Blake at gunpoint.  He would make an excellent President.  The story contained a great deal of truth, describing most of the major details of the disastrous evening while leaving out any trace of angels or magic spells.  Castiel thought Dean would approve.

            “When we talked to this guy here,” one of the officers said, jerking a thumb towards Castiel, “he said that Shelton was out.  Why didn’t you tell us he’d been abducted?”

            “Oh, I wasn’t sure if I should,” Castiel adlibbed.  “Hostage takers usually insist on no police.”  He’d learned that from television cop shows.  He would have gone on, but Adam’s hand tightened on his arm.  Castiel closed his mouth.  Of course.  When telling a lie, less was usually more.

            A crime scene van had entered the front gate.  One of the officers indicated it.  “Is the front door open?  We need to process the scene.”

            “Sure,” Adam said, pulling Castiel with him as he headed towards the house.  “Come on in.”

            Castiel winced.  That was not a good idea.  But it was too late.  He hoped Adam had a plan for how to explain the spell glyphs on the floor.

            To Castiel’s surprise, Adam didn’t miss a beat.  He cheerfully lied and said that Blake had drawn the gylphs as a joke, pretending to be casting a magic spell.  Then he elaborated, saying it was a love spell when the uneaten meal, burned-down candles, and scattered rose petals were found.  “Castiel’s little accident happened at a real bad time,” he said ruefully.  “I didn’t know Blake had plans, you know?”

            The officers quickly lost interest in the glyphs.  That confused Castiel.  The glyphs were obviously the most damning bit of evidence.  But for some reason, the police seemed far more interested in the blood on the floor, the bloody handkerchief, the spent shell casing, and the bullet that they pried out of one wall.  Such mundane objects were easily explained by Adam’s story.  It was the spell glyphs that would have drawn the attention of any hunter.  But little plastic triangles began to appear, marking various objects, and not one of them marked the glyphs.  Pictures were taken.  Measurements were made and samples collected.  And miraculously, the glyphs were largely ignored.  Even so, Castiel was fairly certain that no good end would come of all of it.

            As the police continued to work, Castiel felt largely in the way.  Everything was resting on Adam’s shoulders.  He had to trust that Adam knew what he was doing.  At the moment, though, Adam appeared to be exhausted.  He’d also made an odd transition.  Adam had gone from screaming at Castiel to get away from him to holding on tightly with both hands, leaning heavily on the angel’s shoulder.  Well, so be it.  Adam needed all the help he could get.  The police were questioning him over and over, twisting Adam’s words in what was likely an attempt to confuse him.  But Adam stuck to his story.  The only time Adam appeared on the verge of breaking down was when he had to let go of Castiel so that the police could photograph and swab the blood he’d accidentally smeared onto Castiel.  It was very strange.  Adam’s voice never faltered as he continued to answer questions.  But he grew pale and shook, rocking back and forth from one booted foot to the other.  His eyes were fixed on Castiel, even as he accepted a soapy cloth to haphazardly clean off his hands.  And the instant the police were finished with their samples, Adam lunged for Castiel like a drowning man desperate for a life preserver.  Everyone who’d witnessed it was staring at Adam, including Castiel.  But once Adam was clinging to him again, Castiel noticed an immediate change.  The singer was back in control.

            Adam declined being taken to a hotel or a safehouse, insisting on staying in his home.  But he nodded when offered a police guard for the night.  “I’ll be fine with the police outside and Castiel in here with me tonight,” he announced.  “And after that, we’ll play it by ear with the police.  As long as Castiel stays, I’m not worried.”

            Castiel felt touched.  Adam, who had been trying to murder him with his own Enochian blade earlier tonight, now trusted him for protection.  Castiel wasn’t sure from what, exactly.  But Adam was pressed close to him now, the singer’s hands tight on Castiel’s arm.  Castiel brought up one hand to cover them and was rewarded with a little smile.  And once again, Adam was receiving some odd looks from the police.  Adam either didn’t notice or didn’t care.  He thanked the police and saw everyone out.

            Castiel wasn’t sure what to expect once the police left.  But he certainly didn’t expect for Adam to suddenly turn and grab him in a tight embrace.  “You’re an angel, and you can do magic spells,” Adam said urgently into his ear.  “It was a mistake, but you’re the one who sent Blake away.  So you can help him, get him back!  That’s what you intend to do, right?”

            “I intend to try,” Castiel told him, awkwardly patting Adam’s back.  “I can’t promise you anything, Adam, but I will certainly try.”  He paused.  “Um, are you going to keep hugging me?”

            Adam nodded.  “Yeah, actually, I am.”  The arms actually tightened.  “You’re an angel, dammit!  I need an angel right now.  And whatever you’re doing that’s making this easier, I need you to keep doing it, alright?”

            That made no sense at all.  “But I’m not…”

            “Shut up, dammit!  You’re sent to give comfort, so just keep giving me some fucking comfort!  Please, I need it, ok?  It’s the only thing keeping me from falling completely apart!”

            Castiel was a warrior, not a comforter.  But it didn’t seem Adam needed a warrior right now.  The human seemed near to collapse.  Castiel had no idea what Adam thought Castiel was doing, but it didn’t matter in the end.  Castiel stayed as he was, resigned to the prolonged hug until Adam finally let him go.  Even then, Adam seemed reluctant to let go completely, keeping his hand in contact with the skin on Castiel’s wrist when he stepped back.  “Um, do you want to pick out a room?” Adam asked, eyeing him anxiously.  “I’m on the second floor, and, well…  Ok, listen, I still need you, ok?  And I really, well, I’d kind of prefer it if you stayed close.  Maybe if you slept in the room next to mine, or maybe across the hall?”

            “I have no need for sleep.”

            “Oh.  Yeah, heh, I guess you wouldn’t, huh?”  He rubbed at the back of his neck.  One hand still clung to Castiel.  In all his long experience, no human had ever been so insistent on keeping skin-to-skin contact with him, or any other angel Castiel was aware of.  Adam was a strange man.  “So, what, you’ll just sit down here and watch TV or something?” Adam was asking.

            “I can.”  Castiel eyed the human, and then made a leap.  “Earlier, you were attacking me.  In fact, you stabbed me with my own blade, which could potentially have killed me!  But now, you’re talking about needing me, wanting me to comfort you.  After all that’s happened, do you find comfort being with me now?”

            “Yeah,” Adam said without hesitation.  “Even when you were holding me and I was still trying to fight you?  Must be your angel-ness or something, but like I said, you made it better!  And I’m sorry I attacked you earlier.  The whole thing’s kind of a shock, you know?  I lost the man I loved, and got an angel.  But instead of Michael Landon, I got John fucking Constantine!”

            Castiel didn’t know what to say to that.  “Alright, I do bear some resemblance to that character,” he admitted.  “But am I to understand you want me near?”

            “Fuck yeah I want you near!” Adam exclaimed.  “Dude, you’re an angel, ok?  I’m scared shitless for Blake, and if I can have an angel with me, especially one that can calm me down just by letting me touch him?  You better believe I want you near!  You stay as near me as you can!  Stay right in the fucking room!”

            “Alright.”

            Adam blinked.  “Alright what?”

            “I’ll stay in the room while you sleep, if that’s what you want.”  This human was unpredictable at best, and decidedly clingy.  Castiel wasn’t used to so much contact.  Dean rarely touched him.  Sam did a bit more, but neither of the Winchester brothers was especially tactile.  Castiel suspected Adam was suffering from a touch of hysteria, the events of the night finally catching up to him.  He was certainly fixating on the idea that Castiel could provide comfort through touch!  But he wasn’t wrong, was he?  The more Adam clung to Castiel, the calmer he became.  Already, Adam had stopped shaking.  Now he simply looked exhausted.  It seemed that the simple fact that Adam believed Castiel could provide comfort was doing exactly that.  Well, alright then.  If his presence offered some measure of comfort, it was the least Castiel could do.

            Besides, Adam’s sheer need was drawing Castiel to him, especially now that the police were involved and absolutely suspicious.  Castiel wanted to comfort this man.

            Adam seemed very grateful.  In the end, Castiel spent the night in a chair next to Adam’s bed, the human clutching the angel’s arm even in his troubled sleep.  But Castiel didn’t mind.

            It was the least he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says Cass is a dumbass. Should offer his services as a professional ditch digger. Liked the Constantine reference.
> 
> Trivia Time!  
> This is the incident Cass was thinking about, of how Dean taught him to lie:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YAn1lVtC7FM


	2. Heavenly Omelet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam finally has a chance to talk with Castiel about what happened, and what needs to happen to get Blake back. Castiel realizes the deal he made in haste could have terrible consequences.

            The first thing Adam saw when he opened his eyes was a set of ocean blue eyes looking back at him.  Castiel had kept his word.  Adam’s hands still held to his arm.  That soothing comfort the angel provided was still washing over him, and for a moment, everything was alright.

            Then he thought of Blake, and had to cling tightly to Castiel to keep from screaming.

            “Are you hungry?” Castiel asked.  “I’m told I’m not a very good cook, probably because I don’t taste food like humans, but I can at least make some omelets?”

            An angel making omelets.  Adam laughed in spite of himself.  “Sure, Castiel, I’d love that.  You can’t taste food?”

            “I can taste food,” Castiel corrected.  “But it tastes like molecules.  I can’t enjoy it the way humans can because I actually taste too much.  So I make no promises as to the quality of these eggs.  But at least you can get yourself cleaned up and then sit down and eat.”

            Get himself cleaned up?  Adam looked down at his hands, and saw blood dried there in the crevices, under his nails.  Blake’s blood.  On his hands, on his face.  He’d gone walking out to talk to the cops covered in his husband’s blood, and they’d immediately been suspicious.  It was a wonder he hadn’t spent the night in jail.  But Blake!  His wonderful, loving Blake!  What was happening to Blake now?  Adam shuddered and clutched at the angel.  “You’re not going to go anywhere, right?” he pleaded.  “Not going to fly off while I’m in the shower?  Because I really don’t think I can handle it if I come out and you’re gone!”  Castiel had to stay.  Adam was going to fall completely apart if Castiel didn’t stay.

            “My wings were burned off,” Castiel explained.  “I can’t fly.  But no, I won’t leave.”

            Adam breathed a sigh of relief.  Then he frowned.  Castiel’s wings were burned off?  That was horrible!  Maybe that explained how he’d ended up in that crater?  Adam remembered the blisters on Castiel’s face and winced.  “Wow, what did you do, fight a demon?”

            “Several, actually, but most demons aren’t much of a match for me.  It was another angel that burned my wings.”  Castiel stood up and looked pointedly at Adam’s hand clutching his arm.  “Adam, you can’t constantly hold on to me,” he said patiently.  “Let me go long enough to clean yourself up, and I promise, I won’t run away.”

            Adam reluctantly let him go.  Castiel smiled softly.  “Go get cleaned up.  I’ll be here when you’re finished.  And then, we’ll talk.”

            Adam got showered and changed in record time, not bothering to shave.  He’d believed Castiel when he’d said he wouldn’t run away.  But with the angel out of his sight, and more importantly, his reach, the panic kept creeping back.  Everything, even the most familiar thing like the sight of his and Blake’s toothbrushes on the sink, seemed to make it worse.  The sudden realization last night that there was an entire world full of danger and magic and evil had rattled Adam to his core.  And now Blake, his dear, sweet, charming country hick, was lost in that world!  There, hanging on the corner of the bed post, was one of Blake’s familiar denim jackets.  He picked it up with a shaking hand, pulled it on.  The sleeves, sized for Blake’s longer arms, needed rolled up. 

            Adam stood, looking at himself in the mirror.  The sight and feel of Blake’s jacket was comforting.  He pulled the collar of the jacket over to his face and inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar smells of aftershave and sweat and that most beloved of personal scents.  _Blake._

            And then it felt as if the entire world came crashing down.  _What if this is the closest I’ll ever get to him again?_

            Adam’s head swam.  He barely made it to the toilet before he was dry heaving, shaking and sobbing and desperately needing his husband.  There was only one ray of hope – Castiel.  Adam had an angel on his side.  Surely an angel could make this right!  But did Blake have an angel on his side?  Castiel had said a name, Don or something.  Another angel, from wherever it was that Blake had disappeared to?  Adam hoped so.  He prayed that Blake had someone powerful who could protect him.  But for now, Adam needed an angel of his own.

            Adam paused only long enough to remove and reverently fold Blake’s jacket, placing it back over the bed post.  Then he practically ran downstairs.  He grabbed Castiel’s arm as soon as he spotted the familiar trench coat.  Immediately, relief washed over him.  Adam was delighted to realize that it didn’t even take skin-to-skin contact for him to feel the effect anymore.  Just touching Castiel’s coat did the trick!  The angel was better than valium.  _Father, please watch over Blake and bring him back to me.  But until then, thank You for sending me Your angel!_

            Castiel bore it with patience that could only be divine.  He offered Adam a smile, plated the eggs, and handed them over.  Then he let Adam pull him to the table, where he sat without complaint and watched Adam eat one-handed, refusing to let Castiel go.  But the angel didn’t seem upset.  If anything, the blue eyes seemed amused.

            Adam tried the eggs.  “Not bad,” he said.

            “We should talk,” Castiel began.  “I need to tell you what happened last night.”

            Adam nodded.  He listened as Castiel explained about the other world he’d come from, a world where monsters were real and a pair of brothers hunted them.  It was worse than Adam thought.  But as the angel spoke, several things became clear.  The first was that, for whatever reason, Castiel was telling him almost nothing about what he and these brothers had done beyond vague statements that they’d hunted monsters, including demons and even other angels like the one that had burned Castiel’s wings.  The second thing Adam realized was that one of the brothers – his name was Dean, not Don – was someone Castiel cared deeply for.  The blue eyes grew soft, his voice grew a little deeper and quieter, and most of all, the angel’s lips would curl into a slight smile.  All of them told Adam that Castiel’s feelings for Dean were strong.  That was sweet.  It must be nice to have an angel take a special interest in you like that.  Adam wished one would take a similar interest in Blake.

            And then there was the last thing.

            It was the last point Adam decided to address.  He finished his eggs and put the dishes into the dishwasher.  Then he turned to the angel.  “What are you hiding?” he asked bluntly.  “You keep looking away and being vague, but you’ve got something on your mind.  I’m trusting you, Castiel, because I have no other choice.  You’re all I’ve got, ok?  Now, you’ve said that you intend to try to get Blake back.  But you’ve been talking for over an hour now, and you have yet to approach the subject of how.  So spill it!  What’s the problem?”

            Castiel grimaced.  He folded his hands on the table and frowned at them.  Adam, who had managed to let go of the angel long enough to put the dishes away, returned to the table and took hold of his arm again.  The angel valium still worked, it seemed, even when Castiel himself was obviously distressed.  “Tell me,” Adam urged.

            “That hex bag that Blake had?” Castiel reluctantly began.  “That was my anchor, my link to my own world.  When I knocked the efreet into that portal, I knew there was a chance I could become lost myself.  I was planning to force the efreet through a portal into its own plane, and I knew it would fight.  The chance that I could slip, become trapped in another reality, was high.  So before we went out there, I paid a visit to…”  The angel paused.  “…To an acquaintance of mine.”

            “Ok, what did your friend do?”

            “He’s not my friend,” Castiel said sharply.  “The King of Hell is nobody’s friend!  But if it suits him, he can be very helpful.  He’s the one who got me the hex bag.  It was, as you can probably imagine, extremely powerful.  And Crowley, that’s the King of Hell, has a mother who is a powerful witch.  Rowena designed that bag with one purpose in mind – to open a portal back to my world.  But there’s a bit more to it than that.  When they gave me the hex bag, she put some extra enchantments on it.  One of them was something that could help Sam and Dean find me if I became lost and couldn’t get back.  If I became trapped in another reality, that enchantment would send something back, some item from the world I’d been trapped in that would provide them with a clue as to what happened to me and where I was.  But since your Blake went through instead of me, I imagine it would have sent through something that was from this world, and yet strongly tied to Blake.  Have you noticed anything missing?”

            “Honestly, buddy, I haven’t looked.”  Adam got up and looked around.  “Anything in particular?”

            “Well, ideally, it would be something with pictures,” Castiel explained.  “If my cell phone, for example, hadn’t been broken or had any pictures on it, it would certainly be something the spell sought out.  Does Blake have a cell phone?”

            “Yeah, but he probably had it on him,” Adam replied, still looking around.  “We always carry them with us, especially when one or the other of us isn’t home.”  He froze, staring at the wall.  “Um, Castiel?  I think I found it.”

            Castiel quickly joined Adam in front of two glass display cases.  In one, Adam’s picture smiled from the cover of a magazine which bore the words “Sexiest Man Alive!”  The other case was empty.  Adam pointed to the empty case.  “Blake got the title, too,” he explained.  “We had copies of both magazines hanging here.  It had Blake’s picture on the front, and a lot more pictures of him inside, along with an article about him.”

            “Well, it would certainly be ideal, if that’s the case.”  Castiel was frowning at the glass cases.  “I don’t understand.  There are approximately six billion humans in my universe, and yours seems similarly populated.  That means roughly half of them could be described as male.  What kind of a job was it to determine who, among three billion human males, is the sexiest man alive?  Is a vote taken?  And the odds of both partners of a married couple...  What’s so funny?”

            Adam was laughing for the first time since Blake vanished.  “Don’t overthink it buddy,” he advised.  “The whole thing’s largely a joke anyway.”

            “Oh.”  The angel cocked his head, bird-like, his eyes fixed on Adam’s picture.  “I’m afraid the humor of this escapes me as well.”

            And that made Adam laugh again.  He shook his head, wiped at his eyes.  “Sorry, buddy, but thanks.  I needed that.”

            Castiel’s entire face was a question mark.

            Adam chuckled again.  Then he looked back at the empty case, and suddenly didn’t feel like laughing anymore.  “Bottom line, that magazine is what probably got sent to your world, right?”

            “So it would seem.  And that could prove problematic,” Castiel warned.  “If an item like this fell into the wrong hands, a magazine that featured Blake as prominently as this one features you?  It would be a clear indication that Blake is from another reality.  And that would be trouble.”

            Adam grew still.  “What do you mean?”

            Castiel gave him a reassuring smile.  “It shouldn’t matter.  Sam and Dean and Bobby will do what they must to protect Blake.  So long as Blake is open and honest with them, there shouldn’t be any problem at all.  But I digress.  When dealing with Crowley, there is one thing one must always keep in mind - he never does anything, never makes a move, unless he believes there will be some eventual benefit for him.  When I went to him, I told him that he owed me.  I’d helped him out a while back, and I told him I was calling in the favor.  So he gave me the hex bag with the extra enchantments without asking anything in return.”  Castiel frowned.  “I suspected then that he was up to something.  But I took the bag anyway because I didn’t have a choice.  I was the only one who could take the efreet through the portal and survive.  But I fear those extra enchantments will lead to some difficulty for your Blake.”

            “Castiel, what are you saying?” Adam called.

            Castiel paused, seeming to consider his words.  “Blake went to my world because he had the hex bag, my anchor back to my world, in his pocket when I cast the return spell.  It was extremely powerful, designed and enchanted for the sole purpose of returning me home.  But it was in Blake’s pocket, so it dragged him through instead of me.  Consequently, the enchantments that were also meant for me then fell on Blake.  And that is a problem.  When I fought with the efreet, fell through the barrier between our realities and ended up here, that first enchantment was a failsafe.  It should have sent something else back through, something that could help Sam and Dean find me.  Since Blake had the hex bag, it sent this magazine, which relates directly to Blake.  But I don’t trust Crowley.  He’ll know that, whatever was sent back, Sam and Dean will have that object, and…” 

            Adam looked up in alarm as Castiel suddenly stopped and sucked in his breath.  A thundercloud seemed to cross the angel’s face.  “I was a fool!  Crowley never specified that whatever object came through would come to Sam and Dean, only that it would be something that they could use to find me if I became lost!  That’s why he did it, so he could have that object, a link to another reality!  And that means Crowley would have something to connect to this universe, and would understand that Blake...”

            Adam did not like the way that Castiel suddenly went silent.  “What’s that mean?  Is this fucker gonna hurt my husband?!”

            “No.”  The blue eyes were solemn.  “My friends will protect Blake.  And Crowley had no way to predict that Blake would end up taking my place.  But even if he never gets his hands on Blake, if Crowley has that object, then it means that he’s got a link to this universe.  An object from another reality would have a great deal of power.”

            “What could he do with it?”

            “Many things,” Castiel sighed.  “Rowena could use it in any number of spells.  With the hex bag, it’s even possible that she could use that magazine to briefly open a door to this universe, precisely the way that it opened a door to mine.”  His frown deepened.  “And in that case, Crowley could potentially come through to here!”

            “Why?” Adam wanted to know.  “What’s over here that he’d want?”

            “I have no idea,” Castiel confessed.  “A trip like that would be one way, so anyone who used that spell would be as trapped here as I am now.”

            “Sorry, buddy,” Adam said humbly.

            The angel slumped.  “I knew when I took the bag that there would likely be some hidden consequence, something that would benefit Crowley.  We were aware that there were other worlds, but Crowley knew that, too.  And that’s the part that seems… suspicious, I suppose the word is.  I was about to pass through a portal into the realm of the efreet.  Getting back was going to be a problem.  We both knew that the chance I’d end up in the wrong reality was high, but Crowley couldn’t have had any way to know exactly where I’d land.  And this world doesn’t seem much different from my own.”

            “No monsters here,” Adam pointed out.

            “If you ask any random human on the street in my world, they would tell you there are no monsters there, either,” Castiel corrected.  “Most humans don’t know about them, and the hunters tend to keep it that way.”  He straightened.  “But there are a couple of things that are definitely in my world that may not be here – Sam and Dean!  They’ve thwarted Crowley so many times that he refers to them as ‘Denim-clad nightmares.’  So if he wanted a new place to cause trouble, well, if Sam and Dean aren’t here, your world would look very appealing.”

            Adam was suddenly sorry he’d eaten.  His stomach churned.  “Wait,” he called.  “You’re saying that this King of Hell Crowley might want to come through here and set up shop in my world?  Ok, that cannot happen!  How do we stop him?”

            “We don’t.  We don’t have any way to do that, not without blocking your Blake’s return as well.  If Crowley wants to come over, there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

            “So what do we do?”

            “We find the hunters in your world, and we warn them,” Castiel declared.  “If the Winchesters exist in this world, they need to know what may be coming!”

            Adam thought of something.  “Wait, you’re saying that it’s possible that a different version of these brothers could exist here?”

            “Why not?” Castiel challenged.  “You exist in my world, Adam.  You’re a country singer there, too!”

            “Um, hate to break it to you, but I don’t do country,” Adam corrected.  “That’s Blake’s territory.  But I suppose, in another universe, it’s possible.  When I was first starting out, I did look at country as something I might do.  So yeah, I can see it.”  He looked at Castiel.  “Ok, so we find hunters in this world.  But what about Blake?  How do we get him back?”

            “That, I’m afraid, is much more difficult,” Castiel sighed.  “And it’s why I thought first of Crowley.  You see, if the spell works as it was intended and brings something back that can be used to link up with this world, then he can potentially use it as a beacon to hone in here.”

            “So Blake can use your hex bag to come back!”

            But Castiel was shaking his head.  “Adam, the hex bag could only be used to return one person back to the reality that the hex bag came from.  That means it’s of little value to either Blake, or myself!  In order to undo what’s been done, it will take some very powerful magic, and some connection back to my own world.  I don’t have access to either one!  So as much as it pains me to admit it, I have no real choice other than to wait and hope Crowley agrees to help!”

            “Oh come on, that can’t be the only option!” Adam protested.  “If you just need something from your world, what’s wrong with your trench coat, or anything in your pockets?”

            But once again, Castiel was shaking his head.  “I’m an angel,” he reminded Adam.  “Once, my clothing or even my body could have been used to link back, but I’ve, well, let’s just say I’ve been rebuilt from scratch a time or two.  I no longer have that connection to my world.  I’m a link back to my world’s version of Heaven because that’s where I’m from.  But to get to my Heaven, I’d have to start in yours.”

            “Ok, so what’s the problem?  Just fly up there, and...”  Adam winced, noting Castiel’s cocked eyebrow.  “Wings burned off, right.  Ok, well, can you, like, call the other angels or something?  They’d help you, right?”

            Castiel pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I’m an angel from another universe,” he explained patiently.  “I tried to contact the hosts of Heaven shortly after I arrived, and I couldn’t.  I can’t rely on them for help.  And if I try too hard to reach them, I’ll draw too much of the wrong kind of attention to myself, and by extension, you.  That’s not a risk I can take.”

            “So, we’re on our own?”

            “And for me to get back, we need something from my Earth.  That’s how this spell works!”

            “Then change the fucking spell!” Adam ordered.  “Blake’s on your Earth, right?  So why don’t we just link to him?”

            “The objects in your world have little to no real power because they’re mundane here,” Castiel argued.  “The only reason Blake’s magazine or even Blake himself would be powerful is because he’s currently an aberration in my universe!  It would take a strong, solid, direct link to Blake.  What could possibly do that?”

            “You’re looking at him!” Adam declared.  “I’m connected to Blake like no one else.  He’s part of my _soul_ , Castiel!  And if that’s not a strong, solid, direct link between us, then I don’t know what is!”

            The angel suddenly grew still.

            Adam let go of his arm and took both of Castiel’s hands in his.  “Listen, I don’t know anything about magic,” he began.  “But it seems to me that an emotional attachment can be just as strong, if not stronger, than any physical link!  Do we really need to link to your world?  Why can’t we just link directly to Blake?”

            “You’re not wrong.”  The angel’s voice was quiet.  “A strong emotional bond is a powerful component in any spell.  But there’s one more thing.  Your link to Blake could certainly allow you to hone in on him, but we’d need something more to actually open the gateway.”

            “Such as?”

            “Well, understand, I have some knowledge of magic, but I’m not as versed in it as, say, a witch,” Castiel warned.  “If we used you to hone in on Blake, which could be dangerous for both of you, I might add…”

            “Why?” Adam wanted to know.  “What’s dangerous about it?”

            Castiel pulled his hands free and held them out with his index fingers extended and pointing up.  “Imagine a rubber band stretched between these two points,” he instructed.  “Now, if something happened to one of those points?”  He moved his fingers apart.  “That rubber band, that link, would eventually snap back hard.”

            Adam eyed him.  “What would happen then?”

            “At best, you’d have a serious headache, probably lose consciousness, and suffer some memory loss.  A backlash like that could knock you out for hours or even days!  And at worst?  Your mind could be completely shattered.  You’d be insane, maybe never recover.”

            “Oh.”  Adam swallowed hard.  Then he nodded.  “I’m willing to risk that, for Blake.  Because frankly, if I can’t get him back, I’ll go insane and never recover anyway!”

            The blue eyes shone with respect.  “That’s very brave of you, Adam.  But that’s still only part of it.  We’d also need a magical object, something with immense power, to fuel the spell.  The hex bag provided that, but without it…?”  He paused, frowning at Adam.  “You’re laughing again.  What’s so funny now?”

            Adam was chuckling, shaking his head.  “Dude, seriously?  You need something powerful to fuel a magic spell?  Have you tried looking in the mirror lately?  What could be more powerful than an angel?!”

            The angel’s eyes went wide with surprise.  They flickered back and forth as he mulled it over.  And then he nodded.  “I could use my Grace to fuel the spell.  But there’s still a problem.  In order for anyone to pass through, the gate needs to be opened on both sides.  Rowena’s spell utilized some very powerful, very old components.  The hex bag itself acted like a trigger, putting those spells into effect long enough for one person, the bearer of the hex bag, to be drawn back through to my universe.  But now, it will have to be done manually.”

            “So, what, you need Blake to open things on his end at the same time we do it over here?”

            Castiel nodded again.  “The spells would have to be completed in the same place at the same time on our two worlds,” he explained.  “And both of them need to happen the night of the full moon, when the barriers between worlds are the thinnest.  But for that to happen, both sides would have to plan on completing the rituals in advance.  Both sides would need a powerful magical object to open the gateway.  Then, to connect the two, they need something that links to the other side.”

            “Well, even without Blake’s magazine, they’ve got Blake over there to link right back to me,” Adam declared.  “They got any more angels?”

            “None that would help, but surely Dean can find something of sufficient power,” Castiel mused.  “The problem is that we still have to find a way to communicate our plans.  And I have no idea how that would be done!”  He looked apologetically at Adam.  “That’s why I said last night that this wasn’t possible, Adam.  I’ll exhaust all of my options, but right now I simply don’t see a solution.  I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be sorry,” Adam ordered.  “There’s a chance we can make this work.  We just need to find a way to communicate across worlds!  I mean, so far as linking over to your world goes, we got our end of things taken care of now, right?”

            Castiel looked away.  “Yes,” he said slowly.  “Between your mutual link with Blake and my power to fuel the spell, in theory we could open a gateway that should allow Blake to pass through.”

            Adam sagged in relief.  Blake had a way to get back to him after all!  Still, there was something wrong with what Castiel had just said.  Adam couldn’t put his finger on it.  Ah well.  He impulsively hugged the angel.  “Thank you.”

            Castiel smiled, but it quickly faded as he pulled away.  “We should focus now on finding a way to communicate between the worlds.  And I don’t even know where to begin there!  I suspect that figuring this out will be our true challenge.”

            Adam did not like the sound of that.  “Come on, Castiel, isn’t there anything we can do?”

            “Yes.  We can find the hunters on this world.  They’re a resourceful bunch.  If anyone here knows of a way to communicate between worlds, they’d be the ones.”

            “Ok, and how do we find these hunters?”

            “That part is simple,” Castiel said.  “We find the monsters.  Hunters won’t be far behind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun liked how they figured out what they needed to do. Thought Adam was relying too much on Castiel.
> 
> Trivia Time!  
> In the show, not just Castiel, but all of the angels had their wings burned off, the result of a spell that cast them all out of Heaven for a time. Here's a little clip I found that shows what his wings currently look like:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9RRBVVEb2v0


	3. Rumors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel discovers that researching monster activity isn't as easy as Sam always made it look. Adam gets a visitor, who explains what he's been missing in his self-imposed isolation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have asked and those who may still be wondering, no, providing comfort with a touch is NOT one of Castiel's known abilities on the show. That's why he's so confused as to Adam's response to him here.

            Adam suspected that finding monsters would be more difficult than Castiel seemed to believe.  Castiel had insisted that monsters could be found if you knew where to look.  Then he’d confessed that Sam usually did this part of things while they were hunting.  “It can’t be that hard,” Castiel had assured.  “I imagine it will take me a bit to get the hang of it, but that’s where not having to sleep is an advantage.”

            True enough.  Now Castiel spent a great deal of time on the internet, looking for what he called “signs of activity.”  And meanwhile, there was nothing Adam could do but wait.

            Everywhere Adam turned, Blake haunted him.  He dreamed of nothing but the man he loved every night.  Sometimes the dreams were good, memories of the two of them together or dreams of what they could do when Blake returned.  Sometimes he had oddly intense dreams of Blake feeling frustrated or trapped.  The feelings often persisted, coming and going even during the day while Adam was awake.  But far too often, Adam suffered through nightmares of Blake hurt, lost, or killed.  He’d wake screaming from those.  And every time, Castiel would be there, coming to Adam whenever he called, able to calm him with little more than a touch.

            The rest of the world was another challenge.  While Adam had intentionally isolated himself to allow Castiel the time he needed to work, word had spread quickly that Blake had been kidnapped.  Adam was touched by the outpouring of support his agent relayed.  He felt a little guilty, but at the same time, he hadn’t really lied.  Blake had absolutely been taken away against his will.  The problem was that the one who’d been at least partially responsible for that was currently in his house, glued to the internet, searching for monster activity.  And Adam hadn’t yet found a good, satisfying answer to explain Castiel’s continued presence.  So far, they’d only had to deal with cocked eyebrows and questioning expressions.  But sooner or later, someone was going to start asking why Castiel was there.

            Already, the FBI was suspicious.  Every time an agent had spoken with him, Adam had received less sympathy and more hard looks.  They accused Adam of being less than cooperative, and of course that was true.  They were especially suspicious about Castiel.  Adam only told them that Castiel was a personal friend and would be staying with him until Blake returned.  And they’d been especially unhappy when Adam announced that he, not Castiel, would be answering any and all questions related to the investigation.  Castiel continued to repeat that he didn’t remember much of anything, and Adam insisted that he be left alone.  They hadn’t pressed the issue too much.  Even so, Adam strongly suspected that, if it weren’t for his fame, his money, and his connections, he and Castiel both would have been in far more trouble than they were already in.  For now, Castiel was quick to inform him that, while their police guards had gone, people were still watching the house and tracking their movements.  Oh well.  If anything came of it, Adam decided, he’d play it by ear.  It wasn’t like he could tell anyone the truth.  An angel from another version of reality had crash landed in this one and accidentally sent Blake to his universe with a magic spell?  Adam was reasonably certain he’d be in a straightjacket before he could even finish that sentence.  Adam and Castiel had both been fingerprinted by the police on the grounds of “distinguishing their prints from those of the perpetrators,” even though Adam had insisted that Blake’s kidnappers had worn gloves.  Adam had no doubt that they were doing a thorough search into Castiel’s background.  Well, let them.  Adam seriously doubted that the angel’s fingerprints would lead them to any real information.

            Castiel, Adam decided, was a wonderful angel.  He never protested Adam’s frequent demands for his attention.  Every night, he stayed in the guest bedroom directly across from Adam’s room, ready to come over and help when Adam called for him.  And every time, just touching the angel instantly eased Adam’s suffering.  Castiel himself seemed puzzled as to the effect he had on Adam, but he didn’t complain.  He never made promises or gave false hope.  He simply worked tirelessly, with a single-minded purpose, towards his goal.  But at the same time, he was gradually drawing away.  While the angel hadn’t said anything, it seemed clear he was unused to so much tactile contact.  Castiel would smile patiently, allowing Adam to cling as long as he needed.  But as soon as Adam let him go, he immediately pulled away.  Well, who could blame him?  Besides, Adam was making progress.  He was able to go hours now without even seeing Castiel, and still not have a panic attack.  It was a real victory, and Castiel continued to encourage him to be independent.

            Except, of course, when Adam really needed him.

            Unfortunately, that happened frequently.

            For days now, Adam had to tell his modified version of what happened the night Blake disappeared over and over, to the police, to family and friends, to the FBI.  And every time, he could feel the familiar panic starting to rise.  Every time he told the story, he remembered what had really happened to his husband.  And every time that happened, he was back at that moment, looking into Blake’s wide, frightened blue eyes the instant he’d disappeared.  He’d feel it again, that sickening feeling of loss, that sensation like the tearing apart of his very soul.  And every time, he felt like screaming.  Castiel was the only thing that could steady him.  As much as the odd calming effect he had was helping, the physical presence of Castiel, the tangible proof of an angel, was nearly as comforting.  _If Castiel can be here with me, then I know someone is watching over Blake!_

            Adam wasn’t stupid.  He knew what he was feeling was very clearly some form of PTSD.  But as long as the angel was with him, he could handle it.  And after the third time Adam had lost control while being questioned and Castiel had suddenly found himself glomped by a distraught singer, the angel had patiently gone with him to meet visitors.  He would hover nearby where he could comfort Adam with a hand on Adam’s arm or shoulder or take Adam’s hand any time questions were raised about that night.  That kept Adam from outright pouncing on him, and it helped, every single time.  There was no denying Castiel’s power, and Adam was beyond grateful

            Adam had fielded every question with Castiel at his side.  He hadn’t missed the sideways looks he was getting, but at the time, he hadn’t thought much of it.  Adam had always been very tactile with those he was close to.  Even before they were dating, he’d sit on Blake’s lap, and Blake was known for planting kisses on anyone and everyone.  It never occurred to Adam that anyone would see his relationship with Castiel, an _angel_ , as anything but platonic.

            Then Carson showed up.

            Adam had invited his friend in, accepted his condolences, and got Carson settled in the living room.  Then he’d immediately gone for Castiel.  The angel quietly sighed when Adam entered the room with a pleading look on his face.  “Adam?” he began.  “It’s been four days.  Do you really need me again?  If I’m constantly pulled away from my studies, I cannot be expected to find the hunters of your world.  I’m not particularly skilled at this as it is, and your world’s hunters don’t seem to operate quite the same as what I’m used to.”

            “I know,” Adam said humbly.  “I know I’m messing you up, Castiel, but I need you!  Carson’s here, and he probably wants to talk about ‘The Voice’ because we start taping soon and I gotta help figure out what we’re gonna do, especially if we can’t get Blake back soon because we’re going to have to make a decision and maybe find a back-up coach and probably two because I don’t think I can go on without him and I don’t know how I’m gonna look Carson in the eye and tell him that and Carson’s a good friend and he’s really worried and I…”

            “Alright.”  Castiel got up and pulled Adam into a hug.  The angel had learned quickly what worked best to calm him when Adam was flipping out, Adam mused.  And in retrospect, he’d just been talking at a speed of about a mile a minute.  Adam clung to him, letting the now-familiar comforting power work on him until his panicky breathing returned to normal.  Then he pulled away, gratefully took Castiel by the hand, and led him out to the living room.

            Carson’s blue eyes immediately locked on Castiel.  They dropped to the angel’s hand, still held tightly in Adam’s.  Then he rose, offering his hand.  “I’m Carson Daly,” he offered.

            “Castiel,” Castiel replied, pulling loose to shake his hand and smile at Carson.  The angel still needed a bit of work on social interactions, Adam noted.  His impersonation of a welcoming smile made him look just slightly demented.

            “Come into the sunroom,” Adam offered, tugging Castiel after him.  He led them both out to the sunroom.  There, he sat in the hammock, while Castiel took his usual perch on the arm of the recliner near Adam, in easy reach.

            Carson’s face betrayed nothing.  But his eyes had a hardness to them that Adam had never seen before.  Adam tensed and leaned a little closer to Castiel, waiting for the inevitable questions.

            But Carson’s first question wasn’t to Adam.  Instead, he addressed Castiel.  “Castiel, forgive me.  But what are you doing here?”

            The angel indicated Adam with a tilt of his head.  “I’m staying with Adam.”

            “I see that.  Why?”

            “Because he asked me to?”  Castiel seemed as confused as Adam felt.

            “Why?” Carson pressed.  He finally addressed Adam.  “If you needed someone to stay with you, I can list several people, myself included, that I would have expected you to call.  I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve never met this guy, never heard you speak of him, never heard of him until suddenly Blake’s gone and he’s staying in your house.  Now, I hear about him constantly!  Everyone who has any contact with you has seen him.  And they’re all talking about how weird it is.  I’ve been hearing things, Adam.  You never talk to anyone, not a single person, without him grabbing onto you at some point.  The first thing you did when I came here was run up and bring him down.  It’s like you’re suddenly completely dependent on this guy, when not a single person I’ve spoken with has ever so much as heard of him before!”  He leaned forward, his blue eyes piercing through Adam.  “Adam, what is going on?”

            “Nothing!” Adam protested.  “Castiel was here when it all went down, and he’s been helping me deal with it.  Honestly, I don’t know what I’d have done without him!”

            That made the host’s eyebrow go up.  “He was here when Blake was abducted?”

            Adam nodded.  “He was visiting us when Blake was attacked.  Carson, what are you really asking here?  Because if you’re wondering if Castiel had anything to do with Blake’s disappearance, then frankly it’s insulting!  Do you really think I’d want him to stay here with me if that was the case?”

            It was a convincing lie that Adam had been using frequently lately.  Every time, Castiel would frown uncomfortably.  But it didn’t matter.  Adam leaned towards Carson, his expression serious, and willed that to be the last question about Castiel.

            Carson’s eyes flicked towards Castiel, returned to Adam, and then went back to Castiel.  “Castiel, can I ask you to step out for a moment?” he asked politely.  “I need to speak with Adam in private.”

            “Of course,” Castiel said, starting to rise.

            “No way!” Adam protested.  He grabbed the angel’s arm, pulled him back down, and frowned at Carson.  “Carson, whatever you have to say, you can say in front of him, ok?”

            Carson pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Adam…”

            “Carson?”  Adam swung his legs out of the hammock so he could sit facing Carson.  He was glad to feel Castiel take his hand, grateful for the support, and gave it a squeeze.  “You obviously came here with something on your mind,” Adam began, bolstered.  “So spit it out!”

            Carson ground his teeth.  “Alright, you want me to just say it?  Fine!  What the hell are you doing with this guy, Adam?!  Blake gets kidnapped right in front of you, and immediately you move another man into your house!  No one has ever heard of him, but he’s suddenly right in the middle of everything, always there when anyone visits...”  The frown deepened.  “For fuck’s sake, Adam, you’re sitting here right now, right in front of me, holding hands with him!  What the hell are people supposed to think?”

            “So fucking what?!” Adam defended, suddenly feeling attacked.  He tightened his grip on Castiel, who looked troubled.  “I told you, Castiel was here when Blake was taken, and he’s been supporting me ever since.  I’m sorry if you feel somehow slighted that I came to him instead of you.  And I’m sorry that I don’t tell you every fucking thing about my life!  But you have no right to come into my house and start shit, Carson!”

            “Dammit, Adam, I’m not starting anything!” Carson exclaimed.  “It’s been four days now Blake’s been gone, and it’s been silence from you!  I would have expected you to do a big press conference, asking the kidnappers to bring your husband back!  I would have expected you to offer a reward!  I would have expected you to do anything other than just lock yourself up in your house with a strange man that constantly has his hands on you!”

            That stung, and Adam resented it.  “Oh, fuck you, Carson!”

            “You think, what, that my interest in Adam is romantic?”  Castiel was frowning at Carson, looking confused and unhappy.  “I assure you, that isn’t the case.  There isn’t any attraction between me and Adam.”

            “Then why the hell are you holding hands with him?!”

            Castiel looked down at his hand, where Adam still clenched it.  “For support.  It’s not always a romantic gesture.”

            “For support.”  Carson’s voice was dry.

            “That’s right.  I don’t understand.  Why is that a problem?”

            “I don’t know, maybe because Adam is a married man?!”

            “Carson, would you back the fuck off of Castiel?!” Adam snapped.  “He told you there’s nothing between us!  Believe it ok?!”

            “Adam, dammit, I am trying to help you!”  Carson slapped a hand on the arm rest.  “Have you been looking at the news at all?  People are asking questions, Adam!  They’re wondering about your relationship with Blake because you haven’t done anything they can see to try to get him back…”

            “That isn’t true, actually,” Castiel offered.  “I’ve been…”

            Adam clamped a hand over Castiel’s mouth.  “Go on, tell me!” he urged Carson.  His eyes were narrowed.  “You’re right, I haven’t been watching the news.  What else is being said?”

            “That the police had some suspicions about your story,” Carson told him.  “That you had blood on your hands and your face and no real explanation as to how it got there, and Castiel was bloody, too!  They’re saying that the preliminary tests on that blood are coming back as Blake’s blood type, not yours, and that the samples are being sent for DNA testing...”  Carson shook his head.  “Bottom line?  They’re saying that Blake wasn’t kidnapped at all, Adam!  The rumor is that Blake found out about something going on between you and Castiel here, and the two of you did something to him.  And that’s why Blake’s gone and you’re here playing house with your new boyfriend!”

            And now Adam let go of Castiel and got to his feet.  His hands were clenched into fists.  “Is that what you believe, Carson?”

            “Oh for fuck’s sake!” Carson exclaimed, throwing his hands up.  “Did you forget that I was there the whole time you two were pussyfooting around your feelings for each other?  I was in your wedding party, remember?!”  He pointed an accusing finger to the picture on Adam’s mantle.  “That’s me, second from the left!  I know how much you two idiots love each other, Adam!  And I know you’d tear out your own heart before you ever let anything happen to Blake!  But I don’t understand what happened, and what you’re doing here with this guy!  So help me understand, Adam!  Tell me what the fuck is going on!”

            But how could Adam explain what had happened?  His head was pounding in time with his racing heart.  He groaned and buried his face in his hands.

            Suddenly, Castiel was on his feet, standing between Carson and Adam.  “What is going on is not your business,” he declared.  “And you’re upsetting Adam after he’s already gone through a terrible ordeal!  If you are really Adam’s friend, as you claim you are?  Then you need to trust him!  You said you know he didn’t do anything to Blake.  Well, I was here when it happened, and Adam had nothing whatsoever to do with it!  Now, as you can plainly see, Adam is already traumatized.  For someone who wanted to be called to help him get through this ordeal, you are doing an excellent job of making it worse!”

            Carson stared at him, wide-eyed.  “I’m sorry, who are you again?”

            “I’m the guy who is going to get Blake back!  But right now, I’m also the guy who is about to show you to the door!”  Castiel’s voice was a low, angry growl.  “I’d prefer you left on your own, so I can try to help Adam come back down from the panic attack you just caused!  Is that too much to ask?!  Because if it is, I’m reasonably certain I can remove you from the premises!”  Castiel pointed angrily at the door.  “Go!  Now!”

            Carson flinched.  He looked hard at Adam.  Adam looked back at him, clinging to Castiel’s arm, letting the fear he felt for Blake show naked on his face.  “Please, Carson!” he pleaded.  “I promise, in time, I’ll tell you everything.  But right now, all I can tell you is that Blake was taken away and Castiel is here to help me get him back.  Just let him do what he has to do!  We’ve always been close friends, you and I.  I’m asking you to trust me now.  Alright?”

            Carson seemed to wilt.  “Alright, Adam.  And I’ll go.  Just, can you please just walk with me to the door, so I know you’re alright?”

            Next to him, Adam felt Castiel stiffen.  But he squeezed the angel’s arm.  “It’s ok.”

            Castiel nodded, and Adam walked with Carson to the door.  Carson frequently glanced back, keeping track of Castiel.  And when the angel was out of sight, he quickly drew close to Adam.  “Adam, just tell me one thing and I’ll back off,” he said in a low voice.  “This guy, I thought at first he was trying to take advantage of you, using what happened as an excuse to attach himself to you.  I came over here to make sure you were alright, that he wasn’t trying to trick you.  But now that I’ve met him...”  Carson’s hands tightened on Adam’s arms.  “Adam, I get a really bad feeling from this guy, like he’s dangerous!”

            “Castiel wouldn’t hurt me,” Adam assured, “but yeah.  He may not look like much, but he’s a seriously scary dude when he wants to be.”

            Carson’s eyes were full of concern.  “Are you afraid of him?” he asked gently.  “Is he coercing you, intimidating you in any way?”

            “Castiel?”  Adam shrugged his shoulders.  “He wouldn’t hurt me, Carson.  Can’t say the same for anyone else, though.  You seriously shouldn’t piss him off, buddy.  I’m sure he gets that you’re just worried, but you really went after him!  It’s no wonder he got upset.”

            Carson gave him a little shake.  “If he’s part of this, if you’re in any danger...?”

            Adam finally understood.  “Oh!  No, it’s not like that, Carson.  He isn’t threatening me or holding Blake hostage or anything like that.  The opposite is true!  I asked him to stay here with me because I honestly believe that Castiel is the only real chance I have at getting Blake back.  And that’s why I’m not all over the news, alright?  He needs to be left alone to work.  I trust that Castiel knows what he’s doing.”

            “And what if these people who took Blake come back?”

            “Castiel can handle that, too!”

            Carson looked doubtful.  “He didn’t do much to stop it in the first place?”

            “That’s because he was hurt!  Carson, Castiel was banged up, burned, and unconscious when I found him...”

            Carson sputtered.  “Wait, when you _found_ him?  Adam, are you telling me now that you never even _met_ this guy until that night?!”

            Adam grimaced.  “There is so much going on that I can’t tell you!”

            The host’s blue eyes narrowed.  “Can you tell me if Castiel had anything to do with Blake disappearing?”

            Adam rubbed at his face with shaking hands and fought the urge to run back to Castiel.  He needed to hold it together now.  This, he knew, was a test.  If he couldn’t convince Carson now, his friend would never stop trying to “help.”  Adam forced himself to look Carson in the eye.  “Not in the way you’re probably thinking, no.  What happened to Blake, it was the end result of a series of mistakes and misunderstandings, ok?  Blake ended up paying the price for it in the end.”

            Carson took Adam’s shoulders and looked him square in the eye.  “Adam?  Is Blake alright?”

            “I don’t know,” Adam confessed.  “He was taken away, Carson.  That much is true.  But I can guarantee that Castiel won’t let anything like that happen again!  He can protect me, and he’s the only one who can get Blake back!  I trust him, Carson.  I’m asking you to do the same.”

            “Is that really wise, Adam?”  Carson’s blue eyes seemed to pierce into him.  “I can arrange for some private protection for you, a company I trust.”

            “No,” Adam said quickly.  “They’ll interfere with what Castiel’s doing.  And then I’ll never get Blake back!”

            “Is it really a good idea to leave both your safety _and_ Blake’s in this guy’s hands?”

            “Yeah, actually, it is,” Adam confirmed.  “Trust me, buddy.  As long as I’ve got Castiel on my side, I’m under divine protection!”

            “I rather doubt you’re that safe, Adam.”

            “Oh, I think you’d be surprised!”  He impulsively hugged Carson.  “Thanks for caring, man, and letting me know what people are saying.  Do what you can for me, alright?  Castiel needs time to do what he’s got to do, and I’ve got to give it to him.”

            “Whatever you need, buddy.”  Carson sounded resigned.  “Good luck, and I hope your faith in your angel pays off.”

            Adam startled until he realized Carson was probably speaking metaphorically.  Then he smiled.  “He’s my angel, alright.  Don’t know what I’d do without him.  He’ll keep me safe, and he’ll get Blake back.  We just gotta believe!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks Carson has no idea how close he came to a smiting. Thinks Adam and Castiel are screwing up, though, and Adam needs to man up and stop depending so much on him.


	4. Threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam's agent warns Adam of threats being made against him at his upcoming concert. Adam has an idea.

  

          Adam was deep in a troubling, horribly-realistic dream featuring Blake fighting off unseen attackers when his phone rang.  He groaned, opened one eye, fumbled for the phone and made a half-grunt, half-whine sound into it.

            “Adam, I hate to bother you, especially this early in the morning, but you’re not answering your e-mails,” his agent began.  He was obviously used to Adam in the early morning.

            Adam made a face.  The residual, oddly-strong emotional dream was just starting to fade.  His heart was still pounding, and it was hard to focus on what his agent was saying.  “Yeah, sorry.  It’s been a little rough around here lately, as you know.”

            “Yes, I do know.  And that’s why I’m calling.  I asked you about this before, but it was only a few days after Blake…  After what happened to him.  I’m not sure if you remember.  The benefit concert?”

            Adam frowned.  “What benefit con…?  Oh!  Yeah, I remember!  Wait, that’s coming up soon, isn’t it?”

            “It’s tonight, Adam.”

            “Tonight?  Shit, what day is this?”  When his agent told him, Adam went still, shocked.  A week.  It had been a week since Blake had been gone.  Where had the time gone?

            The agent sighed at the sudden silence over the phone.  “Adam, I get it.  Everyone gets it.  In fact, when I asked you about it, I told you that it wasn’t too late to cancel.”

            “But now it kind of is.”  Adam sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “It’s ok, I’ll do it.”

            “Adam…”

            “I can handle it, Steve!”

            “It’s not that.  Adam, if you say you can handle it, fine, you can handle it.  But there’s other complications now.  You’ve got death threats.”

            Adam rolled his eyes.  “Again?”

            “These are a bit more serious,” the agent warned.  “This business with that guy you’ve got out there, with the weird name?”

            “Castiel?”

            “Yeah.  It’s really stirred the pot, Adam!  The nuts are nuttier than usual.  Remember Merl Brandon?”

            “Blake’s old agent he had to fire when we started dating because Brandon decided I’d ‘corrupted’ Blake and started screaming at me right in our living room after we announced it?” Adam asked, irritated.  “Currently, the dickhead homophobe in charge of that one hate group, what were they called, the White Knights?  That asshole?  Nah, I don’t remember him at all.”

            “That’s the guy.”  Steve had dealt with Adam’s sarcasm too often to react.

            Adam scoffed.  “That son of a bitch hated me from day one, soon as he found out I was bisexual!  And he was all about Blake ditching me, the bastard.  Now he’s just pissed off because I spread the word about him and he lost all his clients!  I still think he’s got a secret crush on Blake, but honestly, what does it matter?  Who gives a shit what he has to say?”

            “You should,” his agent informed him.  “You may be right about the crush thing, but even if it was true, it’s not something he’ll ever admit.  But here’s the problem, Adam.  You know he never stopped saying that Blake would go back to how he was if he just got away from you?  Well, now that Blake’s been kidnapped, he’s got his group stirred up pretty high.  They’re stomping around waving their arms and screaming about justice for Blake.  There’s all kinds of rumors…”

            Adam rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, I heard.  Carson came over last night.”

            “How’d that go?”

            “Pretty bad,” Adam admitted.  “Listen, in retrospect, it seems obvious, alright?  My husband vanishes under mysterious circumstances, this other guy shows up at my house, and there’s not really an explanation?  Ok, yeah, I get why people are saying what they are!  And maybe I would have realized that a lot sooner if I hadn’t shut myself off from everything.”

            “I’ve been spreading the word that you’re pretty traumatized,” his agent offered.

            “I appreciate that, because it’s true.”  Adam was up now, pacing around in his room, dressing for the day.  “Steve, I don’t even know where to begin here.  It never even really occurred to me that people would be looking at Castiel!  I mean, I know the police and the FBI wanted to talk to him, but there wasn’t anything he could tell them.  Plus, I knew he needed left alone to do what he’s got to do.”

            “And what is he doing, Adam?”  His agent’s voice was soft.  “I’m being asked for information about this guy, and I’ve got none to give on him.  I’ve been running interference like you asked, but I can only hold back the vultures for so long.  And I can’t shield you if I don’t have information!”

            “Information.  Alright.”  Adam took a deep breath.  “Here’s the thing.  Castiel is here with me for one reason – he’s the only one who can help me get Blake back.  And when I look at him, that’s what I see, the guy who can help me get Blake back.  Just having him near me comforts me for that reason alone, ok?”

            “I can understand that.  But Adam, can I be blunt?”

            “I suspect I know what you’re going to say, but go ahead.”

            “You have a type, with guys.  We both know that.”

            “Brunettes with pretty blue eyes,” Adam admitted.

            “Precisely.  And Castiel, from the pictures I’ve seen, fits that type.”

            “And he’s gorgeous,” Adam sighed.  “I get that now.  I’ve been here now for a week in this house with this guy who’s sex on legs, and the irony is that I didn’t even get it!  The whole world saw him except for me, Steve.”

            “Because you only saw the guy who could bring back Blake.”

            “Exactly!”

            Steve sighed.  “I understand that perfectly.  And I know you’re tactile, Adam, so I also understand the reports of you two not being able to keep your hands off of each other.  But explaining it to the general public isn’t going to be so easy.”

            “I know.  Just do what you can.”

            “It would help if I had something to tell people?”

            “Like what?”

            “Well, for starters, what, exactly, is he doing?  Who is this guy, Adam?  Where’d he come from?”

            How could he answer that?  Adam thought fast about what he knew about Castiel.  How could he translate the truth into something believable?  “Castiel, he’s an ex-soldier, um, like, a freelance mercenary for hire?” he improvised.  “He wasn’t supposed to have anything to do with me or Blake.  But he got into a scrap with these other mercenaries, and they caught Castiel by surprise, so he took a bit of a beating.  When I found him, he’d gotten away, but he’d collapsed, unconscious.”

            “Holy shit!”

            “Yeah,” Adam agreed, inspired.  “Obviously, I didn’t know any of this.  I was driving home that night and I saw him, lying in a...  In a ditch, at the side of the road.”

            “He didn’t look injured in the pictures I saw?”

            “No.  This other guy, um, well I think they tried to take Castiel prisoner, you know?  They drugged him!  That’s why Castiel was talking so weird, so out of it that night, and doesn’t remember much.  I didn’t even know he’d gone outside.  I was so upset over Blake, I couldn’t handle it.  Steve, Blake’s blood was all over the floor, and he was gone!  I completely lost my shit!”

            “That explains a lot,” Steve agreed.  “And these other mercenaries Castiel was fighting with came after him, and encountered the two of you?  I can see Blake refusing to turn him over.  Knowing your Big Country, he probably shut the two of you away in the back and went to deal with these bastards alone!”

            “Oh, you bet!  Dude, it’s like you were there that night!”  Thank God Steve had a great imagination.  “Castiel isn’t a bad dude, but these guys are, so...”

            “...So that’s why they grabbed Blake, and why you couldn’t give more than a vague description.  Makes perfect sense now!”  Steve groaned.  “Fuck me, Adam!  Why didn’t you tell the truth?!”

            “Because these bastards had Blake!” Adam exclaimed.  “They were after Castiel because they were trying to get something he was after.  I don’t know what it is, and I don’t want to know.  But now Castiel basically is being forced to keep looking for whatever it is, because if he doesn’t come up with it, Blake...”  Adam swallowed hard.  Even though his story was fictional, straight out of a spy novel, and largely unbelievable, the idea of anyone hurting Blake was enough to make Adam stop breathing.

            “Got it.  Alright, Adam.  Let me talk to the legal people, ok?  It’s possible some asshat could charge you with filing false reports and withholding evidence, maybe something along the line of interfering with an investigation.  But once the truth comes out, surely the extenuating circumstances here will mean something!”

            “I hope so.”  Adam felt exhausted.  Making up a believable story was hard work.  He’d dug in his bedside table for a pad and pen, hastily jotting down the finer points of the lie he’d just spun so he could memorize it later.  He’d have to fill in Castiel later.

            “Meanwhile, just take care of yourself,” the agent advised.  “And remember how things look, alright?  When you get Blake back, and you will, you two still have your careers to go back to.”

            “I’ll keep that in mind.  And I’ll cool it with Castiel when people are around.”

            “That’s good, Adam, but it may be too little too late.  I don’t think you realize just how much of a fuss Merl Brandon is really making.  And he’s not alone!  There are a lot of loud voices out there calling for your arrest.  They’re saying that if you hadn’t been a famous celebrity, you’d be in jail by now, and the fact of the matter is that they may be right.”

            Adam sat down on his bed and carded his fingers through his hair.  “If they want to arrest me, I guess I’ll deal with it when it comes.  Meanwhile, I need to start acting a bit more normal, huh?  Stop hiding out in the house with the hot stranger!”

            “That would definitely help,” the agent agreed.  “But you need to think very hard about this benefit concert.  The threats...?”

            Adam ground his teeth.  “Steve, I said it before and I’ll say it again.  I am not going to be intimidated by these bigoted assholes, ok?  I will defend to my dying breath their right to picket and protest and say whatever crazy bullshit they want to say, right up until I sue their asses for slander and defamation of character or whatever else my lawyers can come up with!  And I reserve the right to give them all the finger, tell them to kiss my ass, and do this concert.  It’s a fucking benefit concert, Steve!  These cock bags are threatening shit at a benefit concert?!”

            “They’re nuts, Adam,” Steve explained gently.  “They’re even making threats against the charities.”

            “Are you shitting me?  Those charities are all for kids!”

            “Well, one of them is a resource center for LBGT teens,” Steve reminded.  “That’s the kind of charity that these fuckers go after anyway.”

            “And one of them is for pediatric cancer patients!  You telling me they made threats against a charity that supports kids with cancer?!”

            “All the charities have been threatened, trying to get them to cancel the concert.”

            “Well, fuck them!”  Adam’s hand tightened on his phone.  “Does the band know about the threats?”

            “Yeah, they do.  I spoke with each of them, and they’re all willing to go ahead with it, so long as you are, Adam.”

            “You’re damned right I am!  My fucking blood is boiling here, Steve.  I don’t care what threats they make!  If the band’s willing, I’m willing!”

            “Just be careful,” Steve warned.  “You’re the one these assholes have their sights set on, buddy!  And you’re also the one who will be way out front.  Can I ask you to reconsider using the long stage?”

            “The seating is already sold to accommodate it,” Adam reminded.  “And I already told you, I won’t be intimidated.  Just warn the venue that they need to boost security.”

            “Already done.  Adam, speaking of security, you should think about getting some of your own.”

            “Yeah, I’ll look into it.”  Adam was frowning now.  “You know the trouble we had with the company we’ve been using, but I haven’t found another one yet.  Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.”

            “Well, think fast!  This isn’t a joke, Adam.  These threats, some of them are very graphic and detailed!  You’re gonna need your own personal full-time security person, watching over you like an angel on your shoulder for this one, buddy!”

            “Yeah, and I may actually already have one,” Adam said, his eyes moving towards the door.  “Say Steve, what do you suppose would happen if we gave people another reason for Castiel to be around me?  Like, for example, him being my own personal full-time security angel on my shoulder?”

            His agent sucked in his breath.  “Of course!  Castiel’s an ex-soldier, which makes him the perfect bodyguard!  Adam, that’s genius!  I was just worrying about how I was going to explain him being with you, I mean, it’s not like I can broadcast the truth, right?  But if he’s your bodyguard...?”

            “Two birds with one stone,” Adam agreed, suddenly feeling quite proud of himself.  “Castiel can stay with me and keep me safe from the Merl Brandons and kidnapping mercenary fucks of the world.  And at the same time, he can keep doing what he has to do to get Blake back!  And the whole time, he’ll be right at my side, in the public eye where no one can fuck with him.  Sometimes, I amaze myself with my own genius!”

            “I assure you, any time you display genius, it amazes me.”

            Adam laughed.  “Thanks, douchebag.”

            “It’s good to hear you laugh, Adam.”  His agent’s voice had grown fond.  “You hang on, and believe that Blake’s coming home safe and sound.  If you really trust Castiel knows what he’s doing, then I’ll do the same.  And if either of you need anything from me?”

            “I’ll be on the phone,” Adam promised.

            “Perfect.  Alright, do you want me to work out the details of the contract for Castiel, get him officially signed on as your bodyguard?”

            “I’ll deal with it.  Leave anything to do with Castiel to me.  You just do whatever you have to do to make sure the concert happens!”

            “Can do.  And Adam?”

            “Yeah?”

            “You may have your angel on your shoulder, now, buddy, but he’s only human,” the agent advised.  “Be careful!”

            “I will,” Adam agreed without a trace of irony.  Hanging up, he looked again towards the door.  Castiel would have to be convinced, of course.  But Adam thought he was up to the task.  He put his phone away and went looking for Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks Adam has a very good idea!


	5. You're My Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam checks up on what Castiel is doing and makes his proposal. Castiel's frustration is starting to show.

            When Adam gently knocked on the door, his angel was in front of the computer again, frowning at the screen.  Castiel looked back when he entered and gave him a small smile.  Adam returned it and came in, pulling up a chair and sitting backwards on it.  “Hey, buddy.”

            “Hello, Adam.”  Castiel looked moody and frustrated as he stared at the screen.  “I’m afraid I may not be good company today.”

            “That’s ok.  I...  Whoa!”

            Adam had put a hand on Castiel’s wrist, only to have the angel flinch and quickly pull away with a look of surprise.  “Sorry,” Adam managed.  “Did I hurt you?”

            “N-no,” Castiel replied.  He was frowning at his wrist.  “For a moment, you did, but that’s not really possible.  You just touched me.  It seemed tender for some reason.”  He rubbed absently at his throat, still frowning.  “I think being in this world, and the continuing frustration with this task, is starting to get to me.  I know next to nothing about computers or the internet and had to learn everything as I went.  This morning, I found myself feeling quite odd, inexplicably anxious.  But I suppose it’s to be expected.  It’s vitally important that I find hunters, yet I find myself blocked at every turn!”

            “You’re working too hard, buddy.”

            “Perhaps you’re right.”  The angel had crossed his arms over his chest and appeared to be brooding at the screen.

            Adam glanced at the screen, seeing the blinking curser of a search engine.  Castiel had typed nothing in.  “Still no luck, huh?” Adam asked quietly.

            Castiel shook his head.  “I don’t even know where to start anymore!”

            “Alright.  What have you done so far?”

            “I’ve done searches, and I was able to find monster activity,” Castiel explained, surprising Adam.  “Normally, it would only be a matter of going out and seeking out the hunters as they investigate.  But while your world definitely has hunters, they’re not like they are in mine.  They’re good, too good!  Every time I’ve found a case that I’m positive represents monster activity, the activity stops almost immediately after.  Hunters are going out, taking care of the monsters, and moving on far too quickly for me to catch up!”

            “Well, I get that it’s a problem for us, but that’s good for humanity, right?”

            “So it would appear,” Castiel grumbled.  “In my world, the Winchesters and those like them used to be largely lone wolves, researching their own cases and moving to take care of them with some low-level organizing from Bobby.  They traveled to wherever they found a case.  But it’s much more organized here.  It’s more like each hunter has his or her own territory assigned, because they’re responding so quickly!”

            “That’s good, right?” Adam asked.  “If they’re organized, wouldn’t that make them easier to find?”

            “The opposite, actually.  The hunters here apparently have a very good computer expert helping them.  When I find evidence that could possibly indicate monster activity, over and over I find certain key phrases.  Those phrases contain hyperlinks, leading back to one of a dozen or so sites.  And that’s where the trail ends.  Every time I probe too deeply, I end up kicked out of the site I’m looking at or asked for a password I don’t have.”

            “So what’s that mean?”

            Castiel leaned back in his chair and sighed.  “It means this will be difficult.  Hunters always were a suspicious, paranoid group by nature, and that seems to be largely the case here, too.  It’s very difficult for an outsider to make contact.  But at the same time, they’re actively using the computer systems.  Here, I’ll show you.”

            Adam scooted closer and watched as Castiel brought up a news article.  “See here, animal mutilations, missing hearts?  To a hunter, this screams ‘werewolf.’  So normally, I would go there and watch for the hunters to show.  But here, in the article, is this phrase - ‘Authorities are baffled.’  Click it, and…”

            Adam blinked, looking at what appeared to be a sales site for outdoor equipment.  “Ok, what am I looking at?”

            “This confused me as much as it does you,” Castiel explained.  “Right until I scrolled down to the bottom.  And here, in the fine print, do you see this symbol?  I’ve seen this before.  And that’s when I started to piece this together.  You do have hunters, but they’re not just out there driving from one case to another as it comes up.  They’re surprisingly well organized in this world, and they’re communicating.  I suspect that, in your world, your hunters are working with the Men of Letters.”  He tapped the symbol.  “This is their symbol.  Click it, and you come to this log-in screen, where you’re asked to put in a user name and password.”

            “Men of Letters, huh?  Ok, that sounds kind of important, I guess?” Adam said, confused.

            “They’re an organization developed for the study of the supernatural,” Castiel explained.  “In my world, the American branch was largely wiped out in a demon attack some time ago.  The British Men of Letters tried to get a foothold recently, but Bobby Singer organized the American hunters and put a stop to it, so they never really made much progress.  They work a bit with the hunters there, but the hunters call the shots, not the other way around.  Mostly, they provide information for hunters.  And the result is that hunting has never been more organized.”  Castiel indicated the screen.  “What I’ve been finding in your world is a much tighter system, where it appears hunters are being directed by the Men of Letters.  The news articles link to various sales sites, all with the Men of Letters symbol buried in the fine print that links to this log-in page.  I’m guessing that each established hunter has his or her own access code, providing and receiving information from the main database.  And the database can be reached from any one of a dozen or more sites!  It’s just a matter of gaining access.  But unfortunately, this is all I can reach.”

            Castiel clicked on the button marked “help.”  An application form appeared.  “I can use this to request assistance,” he explained.  “I’ve entered about a dozen requests to meet with a hunter, explained my situation, and asked to be contacted on a free e-mail address that I set up so nothing links back to you.”

            “Good thinking,” Adam noted.  “You figured all that out on your own, when you knew next to nothing about computers?”

            “The advantage of not having to sleep,” Castiel grumbled.  “Unfortunately, in a week’s time, this is the farthest I have been able to go.  The only response came from a dummy e-mail account, telling me that in order to gain access, I have to be vetted by an established hunter.  That was it.  I have no way to know if they believe me, they won’t tell me if they know the Winchesters, nothing at all.  And that means we’re right back to square one, trying to find hunters!”  Castiel leaned back again, rubbing at his eyes.  “I’ve spent the past week on this, first figuring out those key phrases, then following the links to these log-in sites, and then trying to crack these passwords, but no luck.  Whoever is behind the computer systems is good.  As good as Charlie, for sure.  She would be able to break this code.  For all I know, she’s the one behind it!  Given time, Sam might have managed to crack into it, as well.  But I’m afraid it’s beyond me.”

            Adam studied his own fingers as they laced together on the back of the chair.  “So, that means our chances of finding a way to contact the other world are slim?”

            “I’m afraid so.  I’m sorry, Adam.  I don’t know where to go from here!”

            “Yeah, well, that presents us with one hell of a problem, doesn’t it?”  Adam glowered at him.  “Because I finally realized something, Castiel.  I thought from the start that something was off about this plan to open a gateway to Blake.  And just now, I finally realized what it was!”  He paused, seeing Castiel’s eyes flick away.  “We’re planning on opening a gateway that links directly to Blake, rather than your world,” Adam said, sure of himself now.  “That’s one that Blake could pass through, to get back home.  But what about you?  If this gateway connects to Blake and not your world, then doesn’t that make it one way?  You can’t use it to get back, can you?”

            “No,” Castiel admitted.  “A gateway like that, linked to a specific person, could only be utilized to bring that specific person through.  A two-way gate would be required for two-way travel, and I have no way to connect to my world.”

            “But that means you’ll be trapped here!”

            “I’m aware.”  Solemn blue eyes turned to Adam.  “I’ll keep my promise.  I’ll use my power to help you get your husband back.”

            “You’ll trap yourself?!”

            “It’s my choice.  I could have said no.  Instead, I chose to go through with this.”

            “And I appreciate what you’re doing,” Adam began, “but Castiel, you’re giving up your own ticket home to help me and Blake!  Why?  Don’t you want to go back?”

            “I do want to go back.  Very much so.”  His angel’s shoulders slumped, his head lowered.  “My friends, especially Dean, mean everything to me.  I rebelled for him, turned my back on Heaven.  In fact, every time I’ve been forced to choose between Heaven and my friends, I’ve chosen my friends.  And this place?”  He looked around.  “This isn’t my home.  I don’t fit in anywhere here, not Heaven or Earth.  And eventually, that will be found out.  I’ll be discovered, and then I’ll be hunted.”

            “Hunted?!”  Adam’s eyes went wide.

            “I don’t belong in this universe, and other creatures like myself who come in contact with me will be able to tell that immediately,” Castiel explained.  “I’m shielding myself, but I can’t hide forever.  I’ll be discovered.  Then they’ll come after me.  Some will come because what I am, the fact that I shouldn’t exist here, makes me extremely valuable for many reasons.  They’ll come to try to capture me.  Others will come to try to destroy me because I shouldn’t exist.  And my only choices will be to hide or to fight.  If I can’t find the hunters and get back home, I have no idea what I would do.”  He sighed.  “I imagine I’ll travel, walk the Earth, doing what I can to help the humans on this world while keeping my head down until I’m inevitably found.  It’s my penance, I suppose.  I’ve done…”  The blue eyes squeezed shut, his fists clenched.  “I’ve done terrible things, Adam.”

            Adam cocked an eyebrow.  “Can’t be that bad!”

            “I’m the reason that the wings of the angels in my world were burned off,” Castiel announced.  “That happened because of my mistake, Adam.  I got every angel thrown out of heaven because I was a fool!”

            Adam blinked.  “Ok, that’s bad, but still, you can’t say that you’re…!”

            “I was the instrument that nearly turned all of humanity into little more than cattle, food for creatures of vast power,” Castiel confessed.  “Before that, I absorbed all the souls in Purgatory, won a war in Heaven with their power, went mad from that same power and thought I could be God.  Then I went around and destroyed every angel who didn’t stand with me!”

            Adam blinked again.  “Uh...”

            “Before that, I deceived and lied to my friends, to Dean, and made a deal with the King of Hell to get those souls.  I altered the course of time, angered Fate, put my friends in danger…”

            “Ok, yeah, you’ve done some shit!”  Adam’s eyes were very wide.  “I already figured that being an angel wasn’t just fluttering from cloud to cloud and looking graceful.  I didn’t know about any of that, all that shit you just rattled off.  But I don’t need to know, and it doesn’t matter, ok?”

            “Yes, it absolutely matters!” Castiel insisted.  “Adam, I’m aware that you’ve become fond of me.  For reasons I don’t quite understand, you are able to find comfort in my presence.  Despite the problems it’s caused, the fact that I’m here was able to get you through a difficult time, and it seems it still is.  But I’m not what you believe me to be!  I’m not a fluffy, white-robed cherub, here to watch over you and sing you to sleep at night, Adam.  I’m a warrior!  When I had my wings, they were stained with blood!  I’ve killed so many, humans, demons, monsters, other angels…”  He grimaced and shook his head.  “I killed so many of my brothers in Heaven after I absorbed the souls from Purgatory that the ground was littered with their fallen bodies!  I decimated our ranks, I…”

            “Whoa, hold the phone!” Adam called, raising his hands.  “I get it, ok?  You’ve been alive since literally the beginning of time, and you’ve done a lot of serious shit.  And I know what angels are like, Castiel.  I may not have been bar mitzvahed, but I have read the scriptures.  I know what a warrior of God is capable of!  And I gotta tell you, every time it hits me that it’s what you really are?  It sets me back a bit on my heels!”

            “As it should,” Castiel sighed.  “I’m not what you see before you.  This is just a human vessel.  It’s a man’s body I’ve obtained to contain me so that I can walk about and affect things on the Earth.”

            Adam blinked.  “Wait, what?  You’re _wearing_ a dude?”

            “A human’s body, yes.  He’s not in it, and it was his choice to let me in.  But I’m not what you see here, Adam.  In my true form, I’m taller than the Chrysler building.”

            “Damn!”  Adam suddenly paled, realizing what he’d just said and who it was he’d said it to.  “Er, no offense,” he said quickly.

            “None taken.”  Castiel slumped in his chair.  “Bottom line, I have a lot to do penance for, including something quite recently that…”  His eyes flicked to Adam and then quickly looked away.  “I want to help you, Adam.  I can try for another eternity and never make up for the things I’ve done.  So all I can do is what I can find.  I found you, and you needed me.  You needed me for comfort, so I provided what I could.  And now you need me to open this portal and rescue your husband.  I’ll do that for you, Adam, not only because I caused this problem in the first place, but also because it’s one thing, one small thing, that I can do to try to make amends.  And if that means I’m trapped here forever?”  He shrugged.  “So be it.  For what I’ve done, an eternity alone being hunted until I’m destroyed doesn’t begin to be a fitting punishment.”

            “Ok, stop,” Adam ordered.  “Even if you’re trapped here, you’re not alone.  I’m right here, ok?  And I’m going to help you!  I don’t give a shit because you’re my angel, and…”

            “What?”  The blue eyes locked with Adam’s as Castiel gave him a look.  “I’m _your_ angel?  You’re claiming me, now?”

            Adam’s mouth was suddenly devoid of saliva.  For the space of a few rapid heartbeats, Adam was once again reminded of just how powerful, how terrifying an angel could be.  Stories of destruction raced through his head.  How stupid could he be, to try to piss off an angel sitting right in his own house, not two feet in front of him?  The outrageous claim he’d just made could very well cause Castiel to smite him out of existence!

            But Adam didn’t believe it for a moment.  Looking into the angel’s deep blue eyes, Adam saw a powerful, terrible being, but also a wounded, lonely soul.  And loneliness was something Adam understood all too well.  He dared to reach out and take Castiel’s hand.  “Yeah,” he announced, glad his voice didn’t break.  “I am claiming you.  Because you _are_ my angel, Castiel.  You came to me, and I need you, and we can help each other!”

            Castiel rolled his eyes and pulled free.  “I’m here because you need me, yes.  And I will stay to see this through.  But you can’t keep me, Adam, and I certainly don’t belong to you!”

            “I know!” Adam said quickly.  “And for the record, I’m not saying I own you.  I’ve got no real rights to you at all, ok?  You’re here because you choose to be here.  I get that!  But see, that’s the thing.  You’re my angel not because I possess you in any way, but because we’re connected, you and I.  I saw you fall from the sky, I found you and took you home.  That could have been anyone, but it was me!  And we make a good team, don’t you think?  We look out for each other, help each other out?  Regardless of how it happened, I believe that you were meant to come to me.  We were meant to be together for some purpose!”

            His angel cocked an eyebrow and gave him a wry smile.  “Is that so?  You believe that it’s part of a divine plan that you and I were brought together?”

            “Don’t you?  You’re an angel!”

            “I’m a fallen angel,” Castiel corrected.  “I chose my free will and turned my back on Heaven and divine plans a long time ago.”

            “So what?” Adam challenged.  “Just because you turned your back on Heaven, does that mean Heaven’s turned its back on you?  Especially here!  You said yourself you can’t contact the other angels here.  That means you’re dealing with a whole new Heaven now, Castiel!”

            Castiel’s expression grew thoughtful.  Part of Adam’s mind was screaming at him about the absurdity of arguing divine plans with an angel.  But in his heart, Adam believed what he was saying.  He dared to take Castiel’s hand again, causing his angel to look back at him.  “You’ve been here helping me when absolutely no one else could,” Adam declared, “and dammit, that means something!  It means that as long as I live, you’re always welcome with me!”

            Castiel gently pulled away, turning to face his computer again.  But his eyes didn’t go to the monitor.  They stared off into space, generally downward.  “You don’t want me, Adam,” he said quietly.  “I’m the last thing you need in your life right now.”

            “Yeah, well, that’s my decision to make, isn’t it?”  Adam got up.  He took Castiel’s chair and turned it back around until the angel faced him.  Castiel refused to look at him.  Adam frowned, took his chin, and raised Castiel’s face until the blue eyes finally met his own.  “I need you!  You’re pretty much the only thing that’s kept me sane this past week.  I know it’s selfish and crazy, but I am fond of you.  I consider you a friend.  And if you end up trapped in my world?  Then I want you to stay with me!”

            Castiel’s hands remained on the arms of his chair.  But he twisted his neck, pulling his chin out of Adam’s hand.  “Let go of me.  I already told you I’d let you use me to get your husband back.  There’s no need for this.”

            Adam blinked.  “No need for what?”

            “To convince me.  I’m going to help you.  You don’t need to sweeten the deal and pretend that you’ll still want me around once your husband is back.”

            “Castiel, don’t you get it?” Adam exclaimed.  “You’re important to me!  And there’s no fucking way I’m going to just toss you out into the street once Blake’s back!  That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it?  Well, it’s not true!”

            His angel frowned.  “What are you saying?”

            “Do I need to write this down on a stone tablet for you to understand it?”  He took Castiel’s shoulders and looked him in the eye.  “I’m saying I want you to stay with us!  If you can’t get back to your reality, then stay here!  You’ll love Blake once you get to properly meet him.  Everyone does!  And we’ve certainly got plenty of room!”  Adam was smiling excitedly, giving Castiel a little shake.  “Hell, we’ve got two houses, one in L.A. and the ranch here in Oklahoma.  If you don’t want to hang around us, you could just go to the other house for privacy.  And you could keep doing this!”  He indicated the computer.  “I can hire detectives to try to find these hunters.  So when we find them, you could see if any of them can help you get back.  But if they can’t, then you could hunt monsters in this world, if you want!  We could sponsor you, anything you needed!  But you’d always have a place with us.”

            Castiel rolled his eyes.  “And you’d bring whatever came after me right to you!”

            “I get that.  I’ll talk it over with Blake, and we’ll do whatever we have to do.  But I think you’d be a lot safer with us than you would be running around alone, don’t you think?”  He squeezed Castiel’s shoulders.  “Stay with us, buddy.  We’d love to have you!”

            Castiel didn’t answer right away.  He gently pushed Adam’s hands aside.  When he spoke, his voice was quiet.  “I don’t belong here, Adam.  Even if I didn’t know I’d be hunted, my friends, they need me.  That’s the only thing that really matters.  Once this is over, I need to find another way home.”

            “The only thing that matters is that your friends need you?” Adam questioned, suddenly irritated.  “Don’t you mean _Dean_ needs you?  I figured you were assigned as his guardian angel or something, but didn’t you say you’d turned your back on Heaven and chosen your own free will?  Why are you so attached to that guy?  Dammit, Castiel, from what you told me, he’s a dick!”

            The blue eyes darkened.  “You don’t know him.”

            “I know he’s got you seriously fucked in the head!” Adam accused. 

            Castiel scoffed and turned his chair away from Adam.  “Leave me alone.”

            “No, dammit, I’m saying this!” Adam declared, angrily turning the chair back to face him.  “I’ve been hearing about this Dean guy from you for days now, and frankly, I’d like to punch him in the mouth!  He yells at you when you offer to watch over his sleep, he leaves you behind in that bunker while he goes out doing God alone knows what, he orders you around...?  He treats you like shit, Castiel!  He doesn’t appreciate you, he just uses you like a tool!  Is that why you expected me to just toss you out once I had Blake back?  Because that’s what Dean would do?”

            “No, he does not,” Castiel corrected.  “Dean doesn’t always thank me, but he most assuredly does appreciate my assistance!”

            “What about when he’s telling you to, and this is a quote from you, Castiel, ‘Get your feathery ass over here?’  Does that sound like he appreciates you?!”

            The angel’s face was a thundercloud.  “He does appreciate me, Adam!  What does it matter if he actually thanks me or not?”

            “I’ll tell you why!” Adam exclaimed, indignation making him reckless.  “Because when someone is helping you, you _thank_ him!  You’ve only been my angel now for a week, and I’m beyond grateful for everything you’ve done.  You’ve flat-out saved this other guy’s life more than once, and it sounds to me like he’s more inclined to just boss you around!  And if that’s the case, then he’s an asshole, and he doesn’t fucking deserve you!”

            And now Castiel’s eyes seemed to smolder.  He got up and moved into Adam’s personal space.  “You,” the angel snarled, “don’t get to say those things about Dean!  You have no idea what that man has been through!  His mother was killed by a demon when he was just a child, and his father, while a good hunter, was far too busy hunting to be a father.  Dean raised his younger brother.  He sacrificed his childhood for his brother, and then he sacrificed his soul and went to Hell!  And that is where I met him, Adam.  I raised him from Perdition because he is the Righteous Man, sent to Hell to suffer when he didn’t belong there.  He’d been chosen to be the vessel of Michael during his battle with Lucifer.  But Dean refused, because such a battle would bring so much destruction to the world!  And that refusal ended up costing him the same brother he’d gone to Hell for!  I brought Sam back without a soul, and Dean sacrificed yet again to return it.  He sacrificed a woman who would have been his wife and a child who would have been his son because he couldn’t endanger them with the life he led.  My Righteous Man has done nothing his entire life except care for others!  And for that, he’s been beaten and stabbed and shot and tortured, hurt and betrayed in ways you can’t even imagine!  Yet over and over again, Dean chooses to put others over himself.  That Righteous Man is the man you say doesn’t deserve me?  Well, you’re right, Adam!  Because my Righteous Man deserves _so much better_ than I can ever give him!  He has saved the entire world again and again, torn pieces out of his own heart and soul to do it, and never has he gotten so much as a word of thanks!  So does Dean tend to take me for granted?  Maybe he does.  But so what?  The whole world takes him for granted!  I need no pat on the back or word of thanks to know that Dean appreciates me.  He called me his brother!  And that, to my Righteous Man, means more than you could ever know!”

            Adam was frozen, staring wide-eyed at the furious angel.  But then Castiel seemed to wilt.  He took a step back and collapsed into his chair like a broken doll.  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

            Adam took a moment to regain his equilibrium.  Holy shit, that had been scary!  For a moment, Castiel’s eyes had seemed to glow with a blue-white light.  But of course, his angel hadn’t harmed him.  Even now, Adam couldn’t imagine that happening.  Still, Castiel had gotten rather excessively upset.

            And then, Adam recalled the words he’d used.  _“My Righteous Man.”_   And suddenly, an impossible idea popped into his head.  Castiel was an angel!  Even though he was running around in a human vessel, he was still a celestial being!  Still, the way he’d said that…?  “Castiel?” he dared.  “What are you to Dean, exactly?  His guardian?”

            “Dean and I share a profound bond,” Castiel intoned.  His voice was devoid of emotion.  “More so than what I have with Sam or Bobby.  That is occasionally a source of tension, when Sam becomes upset that I answer Dean more frequently than him.  It’s the reason why, when they need me, it’s usually Dean who calls.  But I care deeply about them all.”

            “I see.”  Adam shifted his body so as to not touch his brooding angel and sat down again.  It was clear that Castiel needed space.  But Adam still couldn’t let it rest.  “I know a little something about special bonds, buddy,” he ventured.  “I had one of those with my husband for a long time before we both finally admitted the truth.  You sure about the two of you?  I mean, I know you’re an angel, but the way you talk about Dean?  What you called him?”

            Castiel looked up.  “The Righteous Man?  I didn’t give him that title.  Dean earned it.”

            “Not ‘The Righteous Man.’  You called him ‘ _my_ Righteous Man.’  Please don’t flip out on me again for asking that?” Adam added quickly.

            His angel snorted.  “I’m sorry I lost my temper.  You don’t know Dean, how could you?  Even if he was here, he can be, well, hard to get to know.  And I suppose my feelings for him are strong, as much as they can be between a human and an angel.”

            “Oh.”  Adam decided it might be wise to drop the subject.  Talking to his angel about his “Righteous Man” was akin to walking through a minefield.  But at least it seemed his wild idea wasn’t correct.  In retrospect, the idea of an angel actually falling in love with a human was ludicrous.  He was glad he hadn’t said it out loud.  “Listen, Castiel, my offer stands, alright?” he said instead.  “You’ll never be out on the streets if I have anything to say about it.  I’ll keep trying, do whatever I can to get you back.  But if you do end up stuck here?  Stay!  I care about you, buddy!  You’ll always have a place with me!”

            Castiel smiled.  “Thank you.  But I’m afraid your friend Carson brought up some very valid points.  How do we explain my presence here?  Am I working for you?”

            “Sure, why not?  In fact, I came in here to offer you a job.  You can be my bodyguard!”  Seeing Castiel’s eyebrow go up, he explained.  “When Blake and I became a couple, we lost some long-term help.  We lost more when we got married.  Now we mostly use an independent security firm.  Most of them are decent, and overall they do a good job.  But just last month, we had someone break into the house at the ranch while we were away.  And to this day we have no idea where the security people who were supposed to be patrolling the property had gotten off to!  What if we’d been home?”  He shook his head.  “It’s a bit scary, buddy.  The fact of the matter is that, as you’ve just discovered, I am great at pissing people off.  Blake and I made a lot of enemies when we went public and got married.  And every so often, they show their ugly faces.  Recently, it’s gotten a bit worse.  When Blake and I went public and I saw how much shit he was getting, I went out and publically supported a few laws in support of the LBGT community.  Blake, while he’s not really political, supported me.  And that drew the attention of the wrong kind of people to both of us.  We’ve had people picketing our producers and the venues where we’ve performed, we’ve gotten nasty letters, we’ve even gotten death threats, buddy!”

            Castiel tilted his head, looking confused.  “I don’t understand.”

            “Doesn’t matter,” Adam declared.  “The point is, I need to stop hiding in here with you and letting rumors build, and get back out there.  And you clearly need to take a step back from what you’ve been doing here!”

            “Adam, it’s vital that I...”

            Adam raised his hand.  “You just said a bit ago that you didn’t know where to go from here, right?  Well, when that happens, the thing to do is take a step back, catch your breath, and come at the problem again when you’re fresh.  Alright?”

            Castiel tilted his head again, eyeing Adam like a puzzle he couldn’t quite put together.  “...Alright.”

            “Good!  Now, I’ve got some shows coming up that I really need to do.  The first one is actually tonight!  Now, there’s been some threats made, more so than usual after Blake vanishing.  I actually just got off the phone with my agent, and he said there were specific threats made about this concert.  But I can’t walk away from it.  It’s a benefit concert!  I need to be out there, and I need someone to watch my back.  Someone I can trust, someone who knows me and will look out for the best interests of me and my band.”  He playfully punched Castiel’s bicep.  “Who better than my angel to watch over me, huh?  You can handle damned near anything we might come up against, Castiel!  It’s the perfect job for you!  That’s why I came in here, buddy.  I’d like to officially ask you to be my bodyguard!”

            “You want me to be a bodyguard?”  Castiel was frowning at Adam with his head propped up on his hand.  He appeared confused by the entire concept.

            “Yeah, of course!  And buddy, that’s something you can keep doing, if, you know, you’re stuck here?”  Adam gave him a small smile.  “You don’t need to wander the Earth, not when Blake and I can use your help right here!  And we’re public figures, Castiel!  You’d be right there in the spotlight with us, which means that it would be harder for anyone to bother you, right?”

            “It would be more difficult for me to be accosted if I were in the public eye, yes,” Castiel admitted, looking thoughtful.  “Supernatural creatures tend to avoid the spotlight out of self-preservation.  But do you really want me in a spotlight, Adam?  I’m a bit, well, unused to human mannerisms.”

            “Won’t matter, because you’ll be with me.  Trust me, I draw a lot of attention!  You’ll be there, surrounded by people, but at the same time, you won’t be bothered because everyone will be focused on me.  It’s perfect!”  Adam grabbed his angel’s arm and gave him a little shake.  “I’ll pay you a fair wage for a full-time personal bodyguard, too, so you’ll have your own money.  You can protect me and my band, but mostly me.  I’m the guy out front that pissed everyone off, after all!  Hell, half of the nasty shit I get is because I ‘corrupted Blake to the dark side,’ apparently!”  Adam rolled his eyes.  Then he smiled wider at his angel.  “Bottom line, I’m the one who needs your help the most, and I’m always in the spotlight.  That means you can hide in plain sight, Castiel!  We can help each other!”  He grabbed Castiel’s arm and shook it, excited.  “You need a purpose and a way to hide, and I need a guardian angel.  Match made in Heaven, right?  Come on, what do you say?”

            Castiel rolled his lips into his mouth, mulling it over.  “Alright,” he said at last.

            “Really?  Great!”  Adam impulsively hugged him.  “Thanks, man!  And I meant what I said.  I’m still gonna keep looking for these hunters, find a way to get you home.  And until we succeed, you’ve got a place with me!”

            “I appreciate that.  Now as your bodyguard, my job is to guard your body, correct?”

            Adam chuckled.  “Basically, yes.”

            “Then as part of my duties, may I suggest you get some food into you?  Then you should consider a nap later on, getting some rest?  You said you have a performance of some kind scheduled for tonight?”

            Adam nodded.  “Yeah, I do!  I’m doing a show as part of a local charity benefit.  You’ll get to meet my band and start your new job right away!”

            “And no more alcohol.  You shouldn’t smoke either, Adam.  Oh, and you should dress warmer.  It’s cold outside, and...”

            Adam was doubled over laughing.  “Ok, you know what, one thing at a time!  I’ll take better care of my body, just for you.  Meanwhile, you should understand what you’re getting into.  You ever been to a rock concert?”

            “I can’t say that I have.”

            Oh, this was too perfect!  Adam gave his angel a wicked grin.  “Castiel?  You are in for a treat!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun laughed about Castiel taking care of Adam’s body, telling him he has to take a nap like he’s a toddler. Thought Adam really pushed it hard with Dean.
> 
> Trivia Time!  
> Castiel is indeed wearing the body of a human man. All we know about his true form is that it's "taller than the Chrysler building," and the glimpses we've had of him show only a bright white light. But that hasn't stopped fans from drawing some amazing concept art of him based on Biblical angel descriptions! Here is my favorite:
> 
> https://goo.gl/images/Bz4UnU


	6. Benefit Concert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel must guard Adam and his band at a benefit concert. That shouldn't be too difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I know about concerts, I know from the single concert I've ever attended (Blake Shelton, just this month! Best anniversary EVER!), things I've read, and videos. Ah well, my world, my rules. Hopefully this isn't too far off.

            There was a group dynamic that went along with having a large number of people in one place.  The prevailing mood, be it happy, angry, triumphant, or savage, tended to not only spread, but magnify until it defined the crowd.  This was the case in countless mob gatherings through the centuries, going back to basic herding instinct, the desire to seek protection in a large group.  Castiel understood the mechanics and psychology behind it.  He could have explained it to any of the people who’d gathered for this event.  And it still felt like a physical force when Adam and his band arrived at the concert hall.

 

            Right from the start, it was obvious why Adam needed a bodyguard.  Castiel instinctively kept between his charge and the screaming, reaching, sometimes crying fans who eagerly tried to grab at Adam and his band.  Soon, the angel found himself with a permanent frown on his face.  “Why are they trying so hard to touch you?” he asked Adam.  “Do they mean you harm?”

            “Not really,” Adam replied.  He’d been quite moody earlier, a feeling that had been oddly echoed in Castiel himself.  Fortunately, Adam seemed to come alive once they’d arrived.  Now the singer was practically bouncing on his toes as he lingered near Castiel to chat outside the venue.  “People come up to me all the time, wanting pictures or a hug or an autograph or whatever, and most of the time it’s fine.  I give them what they want and they leave me alone.  But a big group like this coming at me?  I could get seriously hurt!  I did get hurt a time or two by an overly-eager fan, too.  Once someone jumped up on stage during one of my concerts and grabbed me, and her nail cut my ear.  So that’s why we have those guys keeping the crowd back, and you’re here in case anyone…”

            Castiel spotted the woman who’d slipped past the security and was racing towards Adam, and was moving in an instant.  He shoulder checked her, sending her flying back into the crowd.  People fell like dominos in her wake.  She rolled a bit and then came to a stop, flat on her back, an acceptable distance from the path Adam and his band were traveling.  “I see,” Castiel called.  “I’ll continue to be diligent.”

            “Yeaaaaah, maybe a little less diligent?” Adam called weakly.  His eyes were huge as he looked at the startled fans picking themselves up.  The woman who’d just tried to reach him was blinking owlishly, still on the ground.  Adam moved closer to Castiel, looking like he was trying to look casual.  Castiel didn’t think he had much of a career as an actor.  “You’re supposed to keep them off of me, but not send them flying halfway into the next county!” Adam said, lowering his voice so as to not be overheard.  “Remember, we don’t want anyone getting suspicious that you’re anything but a normal human bodyguard!  Minimal amount of force required, ok, buddy?”

            “Ah.”  Castiel nodded.  “Of course.  I need to maintain my cover.  Good thinking.  I’ll try to contain myself to do minimal damage.”

            Adam chuckled nervously and patted him on the shoulder.  “That’s good.  Hope no one got hurt too badly from that!  Nice stop, though.”

            Apparently, the crowd thought so, too.  Scattered applause and shouts of “Nice job, man!” followed Castiel as he stayed close to Adam’s side.  Adam’s bandmates were slapping Castiel on the back and shoulder, clearly impressed.  It was all very encouraging.  Maybe this new job would work out after all?  His natural abilities as an angel should make it easy for him to protect Adam, even while keeping his more obviously non-human aspects under wraps.  And Adam himself seemed very glad to have him there.

            Castiel had grown fond of Adam, although he still wasn’t quite sure what to make of him.  Adam was still clingy, although he’d successfully weaned the singer away from the need to constantly hold on to him now.  But for some reason, Adam seemed to be actively trying to entwine Castiel into his life.  Calling him “my angel” had disturbed Castiel until he’d realized Adam was using it as a term of endearment, rather than the indication of possessiveness it had at first seemed.  And while the need for a bodyguard was understandable, to hear Adam speak with his band mates, it seemed clear that Adam was making plans for Castiel’s continued presence that extended far longer than a lunar month.  Well, Castiel had admitted he currently had no real way to get home.  It was logical that Adam would make plans that included the possibility Castiel would be trapped here on a longer basis.  Yet Adam never wavered from his belief that Blake would return on the full moon, despite Castiel’s confession that he couldn’t make that happen any more than he could get home himself.  Adam confused Castiel.  After what had happened with the husband he obviously adored, he would have expected Adam to want as little to do with him as possible.  And yet, the singer seemed determined to draw him in.  Strange.  But no time to think too much about it now.  The band was heading inside, and Castiel had a job to do.

            The noise outside had nothing on how the crowd sounded inside.  From the dressing rooms, the sound was all but deafening.  The band immediately scurried into the dressing rooms to change.  Castiel was content to wait outside, standing near the door.  Adam, it seemed, liked to take his time choosing his wardrobe.  Everyone else in the band was dressed and moving around in the hall, and Adam was still inside.  “You get used to it,” one of the road crew explained to Castiel.  He had to shout to make himself heard.  “Adam’s a clothes horse.  Just wait, by the time he’s done with you, you’ll have a closet full of clothes for every occasion, too!”

            Castiel doubted that, but he didn’t argue.  Adam finally appeared, dressed in a white t-shirt and pants that should not have taken nearly as long to change into as Adam took.  But Adam was happy and smiling.  He paused, looking Castiel over.  “You’re not going to change?”

            “I have no other clothes,” Castiel explained.

            Adam frowned.  “Well, we’re changing that!”

            “There’s no need.  This vessel was wearing these clothes when I entered it, and they’re part of me.  I...”

            Castiel saw a man approaching and stiffened, but Adam grabbed his arm.  “It’s ok, that’s Frank!” the singer told Castiel.  “He’s head of security for the venue.  He knows you’re with me, and he’s probably got a wire for you.”

            The “wire” turned out to be an earpiece with a microphone that could be activated with the touch of a button.  “Ok, Castiel, right?  You’re in charge of the band, and we got the venue.  We’ll keep you posted about any problems we might encounter,” Frank explained, all but yelling into Castiel’s ear.  “I’m sorry to inform you that we’ve had some more threats made.  Some bigoted assholes who take issue with Levine’s marriage.”

            “Why?” Castiel yelled back.  “What issue could marriage cause?”

            “I can see why you’re working for him!” Frank yelled, slapping Castiel’s arm.  “Anyway, that’s something we take very seriously here.  Levine and the band know all about it, and they still want to do this, so it’s up to us to make it safe.  Last thing we want is violence at a benefit concert!  Now like I said, it’s our job to secure the concert hall itself, and you take charge of your band.  We see or hear anything suspicious, we’ll let you know.  And if we give the order to move, you grab Levine and the band, get them backstage, and follow my directions to get them all the fuck out of Dodge!  Got it?”

            “Got it!”  The whole thing was very confusing.  Humans and their “issues” frequently were.

            “Ok!  Now as you know, Levine will be spending a lot of time up front on the long stage, pretty far out from the rest of the band.  He likes to get close to his fans, but it makes him a hell of an easy target!  My men have a five foot area cordoned off around the stage to keep people back.  You can station yourself down there and keep an eye on him.  Anything you need, say the word!  Now, you ready?”

            “I’m ready!”

            Once again, Frank slapped his arm.  And then he was off, hollering orders to his men, producing a bit of feedback on Castiel’s earpiece.

            Adam had returned, carrying a guitar.  He took Castiel by the wrist, pulling him towards the door and leaning close to be heard.  “I gotta get up on stage,” he yelled.  “Did Frank tell you where to go?”

            “I am to station myself in a five foot area cordoned off around the stage,” Castiel reported solemnly.  “Apparently bigoted assholes take issue with your marriage and have made some threats.  I’m to be updated if Frank’s men see or hear anything suspicious, and to say the word on anything I need.  If the order is given to move, I’m to grab you and the band, get you backstage, and follow Frank’s directions to get you all the fuck out of Dodge.  My only concern is that Frank neglected to tell me the word to say if I find I need anything.  Did he give it to you?”

            Adam laughed.  “Just say, ‘Hey Frank, I need something,’ and I imagine you’ll get it.”

            “Ah.  Thank you.  I don’t know what I’d need, but it’s good to know.”

            Adam hugged him tightly.  “I’m really glad you’re here, Castiel!”  Then he stepped back, ducking his head and suddenly appearing shy.  “Tonight should be fairly easy for you, for your first day on the job.  When I go out onto the stage, you head on out, too.  Go through this door and wait behind the curtains.  Then when I start out, you go down the steps to the right of the stage.  You’ll come to that cordoned area.  Wait for me by the stage and walk out when I do, alright?  You just stay with me, down on the floor next to the stage, as I move around tonight.  And I’ll avoid running around like an idiot like I usually do, alright?  I’ll give you a chance to keep up with me!”

            Castiel wasn’t sure what to say to that.  He settled for thanking Adam, who reluctantly let him go.  Then he went through the door and onto the stage in the wings.  He waited where Adam had directed him to, hidden by the heavy curtains.  A moment later, he saw Adam appear in the opposite wing.  The singer gave him a thumbs-up, which Castiel returned.  Then the singer did a silly little jig and grinned widely.  Castiel smiled at him.  Adam, it seemed, was indeed glad to have Castiel there.  He must really need his body guarded.  Well, that was something Castiel could do.

            An excited man in a suit came past Castiel and walked out on stage to scattered applause.  He gave a short speech thanking everyone for their support of whatever group of charities the performance was to benefit.  Even from where he was, Castiel could sense the impatience of the crowd.  The man talked for only a few minutes, but Castiel was starting to worry about the man’s safety as the crowd became more and more restless.  But then finally, he seemed to come to an end.  “And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” the man announced.  “Ladies and gentlemen, Maroon 5!”

            Castiel’s true voice was more than most humans could tolerate.  If he used it, he could shatter glass, shake walls, and rattle foundations.  He’d never encountered anything on Earth that had come close.  But that changed when Adam and his band came out onto the stage.  The roar that rose from hundreds of throats could almost rival an angel’s voice.  It drowned out whatever may have come from his earpiece.  Well, hopefully Frank and his team weren’t trying to tell him anything yet.  At any rate, he had his instructions, and he’d follow them until told otherwise.

            He quickly came out and jogged down the steps to the cordoned area in front of the stage, dividing his attention between Adam on the stage and the crowd that pressed against Frank’s security team at the barriers.  The stage extended out for some distance, allowing Adam to walk out to the point where he was almost in the middle of the stadium.  Naturally, he did exactly that.  The singer was either fearless, or very confident in the ability of Castiel and the security team to guard his body.  At least Adam helpfully kept to the right of the stage, keeping near Castiel.  Castiel gave him a nod of approval.  He could work with this.

            The crowd inside the arena was bigger and much more excited than the one outside.  And when the music began, that excitement only grew.  For the first time, Castiel thought he understood why Adam had been so eager to have him as a bodyguard.  A crowd like this was dangerous if it lost control.  Adam had told him to use only minimal force necessary to keep people away from him.  But if this crowd broke through and swarmed the stage, Castiel feared minimal force from him would potentially result in a large number of human casualties.  If that happened, his risk of being exposed as something other than human was very high.  Still, he was determined that no harm would come to Adam.  And if anyone actively tried to harm his charge?  Well, in that case, as far as Castiel was concerned, all bets were off.  He’d do whatever it took to protect Adam.

            In Castiel’s world, Adam was a country singer.  Castiel knew his friend had a beautiful voice, but he wasn’t prepared for the way that voice soared into a high, sweet falsetto.  Adam, he decided, was wasted as a country singer.  His songs were good, but the sheer range the man had just couldn’t be explored in country the way Adam was doing here.  And the music was good.  It was different than Bobby’s country or Dean’s classic rock.  To his surprise, Castiel found himself enjoying it a great deal.

            Adam was also excellent at working a crowd.  He smiled and flirted as he sang, drawing the crowd in until the entire arena was dancing and singing along.  Castiel had to keep a close watch on him.  Twice Adam started moving and Castiel, warily watching the crowd, hadn’t followed the move, resulting in Adam moving away from him.  Both times, Adam stopped and waited for the angel to catch up.  But after the second time, Castiel got the hang of it.  He kept his eyes on the crowd, watching for trouble, and used his sense of Adam on the stage to keep track of the singer as he moved.  Adam seemed quite relaxed, even as he stayed with Castiel.  It worked quite well.  Castiel was even able to start predicting where Adam would go, moving quickly around the front of the stage so that Adam could give some attention to the left side of the auditorium.  The crowd seemed to approve, and Adam was obviously enjoying himself, singing and sometimes playing guitar, flirting and laughing as he performed.

            The concert hall was packed with people.  Everywhere he looked, he saw people dancing or singing along.  Cell phones were everywhere, with lights turned on during a slower song or filming or taking photos otherwise.  Many people wore shirts or hats advertising the band.  That seemed silly to Castiel.  Why advertise the band you were already seeing?  But the crowd certainly seemed to be enjoying the show.  On the stage, Adam and his band were balls of energy.  They were everywhere, weaving around each other while lights flashed, giant screens broadcasting them for easy viewing of those in the back.  The excitement was almost palpable.  Even Castiel found himself drawn in, his foot tapping in time to the music as he scanned the crowd.  But he kept his focus.  He stayed with Adam, keeping a watchful eye for any sign of trouble.

            Adam was deep into his fifth song of the night when it happened.  Castiel had been carefully monitoring the crowd.  He’d focused primarily on those up front, who could potentially reach Adam, but periodically he’d sweep the back and the upper tiers of seats, tapping just slightly into his Grace to check the people there.  It was on one of those sweeps that Castiel noticed something troubling.  “Frank, I need something,” he said into his microphone.

            “Go ahead, Castiel?”

            “There’s a man that’s climbing out on the rigging for the lights, just above the center upper seating tier,” he reported.  “He appears to be holding something long and metallic.  Should he be there?”

            “What?  Hell no, he shouldn’t be there!  Where is the fucker?  How the hell could you even see him behind the lights?!”

            “I have very good vision,” Castiel told him.  “He’s in the middle of the second row of lights from the left.”

            “Wait, no, I see him.  Lemme get my field glasses…  Oh, shit, gun!  He’s got a fucking rifle!  Castiel, get your people the hell out of here!”

            Castiel jumped up on the stage, directly in front of Adam.  Adam blinked in surprise and stopped singing, taking an involuntary step back.  But then there was a loud pop, something hit Castiel in the right shoulder, and Adam’s eyes grew wide in shock.  “Go!” Castiel yelled, not so gently pushing Adam back towards the rest of the band as the music faltered and the panicked screams began.  “All of you, go!  Now!”

            He was careful to keep between Adam and the shooter, and it paid off.  Twice more the man fired, and twice more something hit him.  Castiel turned, grabbed the microphone stand Adam had been using, and flung it at the shooter. 

            His aim was good, guided with just a touch of his Grace to defy gravity.  The stand spun its way up, flashing in the light, and smacked the shooter directly in the face.  The man fell from his perch, landing heavily on the ground far below as screams rose from the terrified crowd.  Castiel scanned around, wary for other shooters as he herded the stunned band off the stage.  “Where do I take them, Frank?” he called.

            “Out the back!  Don’t go out the door you came in, Castiel, take them through the service entrance!  Down the hall to the left, do you copy?”

            “I copy!”  Castiel threw an arm protectively around Adam and got the band to the entrance, where he made them wait, crouched down inside the doorway, while he checked outside.  “Clear!” he barked.  “Into the car!”

            The band obediently charged into the waiting limo, which immediately pulled out.  Silence fell that was almost shocking after the noise and chaos they’d just left.  All of them looked a little shell-shocked, and no one said a word.  Then Mickey broke the silence with a slightly hysterical laugh.  “Castiel, what the fuck, man?  Thank God you’re wearing a vest!  I know you got hit!  That’s gotta hurt, right?”

            “I’m fine.”  Castiel’s arm was wrapped protectively around Adam, who was clinging to him and shaking.  “I can’t say the same for the shooter.”

            “That was the sweetest fucking kung fu move I have ever seen!” Jesse added.  He too seemed a little hysterical.  “You grabbed that mic stand, and it was all, hwyaaaaah!”  He imitated a ninja yell as he mimed throwing the stand.  “Spinning up there like a fucking top to smack right into that asshole’s face!”  He gave Castiel a wink.  “More to you than meets the eye, isn’t there, Castiel?  Where in Hell did you learn to do that?!”

            “Not there,” Castiel told him.

            Jesse blinked.  “What?”

            “For real, brother!” Sam called.  “That was one badass move!  You a special ops soldier?”

            “You could say that.”

            “Do you think maybe everyone could just shut the fuck up for a moment?” Adam called.  Even his voice was shaking.  “There’s no way that guy survived that fall, ok?!  Someone just fucking _died_ at our benefit concert!”

            “Someone who wasn’t you, or one of the band here,” Castiel pointed out as silence fell once more.  “Because he very much intended it to be!  He was absolutely shooting at you, Adam.  Three times!”

            That earned him bug-eyed looks from everyone in the car.  “Three times?” Adam asked in disbelief.  “You sure?”

            Castiel twisted a bit in the seat, reaching behind himself.  Then he lifted Adam’s hand and dropped the three mangled slugs into it.  “Pretty sure.”

            Silence.  And then the car exploded in noise.  Suddenly, the amount of hair growing on Castiel’s scrotum was being discussed in great detail, and at full volume.  But Adam remained silent.  He stared, white-faced, at the three slugs.  They lay in his palm, a mute, tangible testament to the attempt on his life.  And then the hazel eyes moved up to regard Castiel.  “Thank you,” he said.  His voice was so soft it was almost a whisper.

            Castiel smiled.  “You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun laughed very hard about the lady being shoulder checked by an angel. “She’s lucky she’s alive!” Loved how Castiel dealt with the shooter. Laughed again at Jesse’s kung fu yell.


	7. Lucid Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing can ever really separate soulmates. Not even another reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW chapter!

            Adam shifted as he felt someone climb into the bed with him, his sleepy mind not quite registering what was happening.  Then a strong arm encircled his waist, drawing him back against a broad chest while a set of warm, soft lips pressed against Adam’s neck.  Adam hummed.  “Blake?”

            “Did I wake ya?”

            “Yes, but it’s fine.”  Adam put his hand over Blake’s as it lay on his waist and twisted his head to meet his husband’s lips.  “Why does this feel off?”

            Blake’s hand pulled free from Adam’s and slipped daringly lower.  “Feels just fine to me!”

            Adam laughed and thrust against the hand, feeling himself growing hard.  “How about now?”

            “How about this?”  Blake responded by thrusting his own erection against Adam’s rear.

            That did it.  Adam rolled over, glad to find he was already out of his clothing.  Blake was naked as well.  He climbed on top of Adam, his mouth crushed against Adam’s, their groins seeking friction against each other.  Adam could feel the small trails of dampness that were being left behind on his skin.

            Blake laced his fingers through Adam’s and pushed Adam’s hands down, pinning them to the bed.  He moved his legs so they pinned Adam’s legs as well.  Then he attacked Adam’s neck, sucking and nibbling.  At the same time, he shifted his longer torso.  Now he could rub himself against Adam’s leg, while denying Adam the stimulation he needed.  Adam squirmed frantically.  “Oh, you bastard!  Stop holding me down and teasing me!  You know how much I hate that!”

            “Which is precisely why I do it, ya damned control freak!”  The movement of Blake’s lips against Adam’s neck was amazingly sensual, as was the way Blake continued to grind his hips against the smaller man.

            By now, Adam was painfully hard.  He gave a little cry and rocked his hips, desperate for stimulation.  But even as he did, he finally realized what was wrong.  “You’re not here,” he groaned, panting as Blake continued to work him over.  “You’re lost!  I’m dreaming.”

            “That so bad?”  Blake’s tongue traced a trail up the side of Adam’s neck, pulled the lobe of Adam’s ear into his mouth.  He sucked and nibbled, making obscene slurping noises directly into Adam’s ear.

            “Yes, you fucker!” Adam was frowning now.  “You’re not here, dammit!  And I miss you!”

            “You think I don’t miss you?”  Blake’s tongue ran along the cup of Adam’s ear.  Then he moved back to Adam’s mouth, where he kissed him again.

            “I’m sure – Mmm! – I’m sure you do,” Adam managed between kisses.  “But this is just a dream.  Actually, it’s a memory, isn’t it?  I remember this.  Our wedding night.”

            “I woke you up in the middle of the night like this,” Blake narrated.  He’d released Adam’s hands long enough to pull up Adam’s legs, setting them on his shoulders and wiggling himself into position.  “We’d already had sex a couple of times that night,” he continued as he reclaimed Adam’s hands.  “So when I did this…?”

            Adam gasped, feeling Blake breech him.  “I was already ready for you,” he whimpered.

            “That you were.”

            Blake began to move.  He brought Adam’s arms up, crossing them over Adam’s chest, and pinned them there.  His eyes were as bright as they’d been that night in the faint light of the street, earnest and full of love and mischief.  They locked on Adam’s face, watching every expression the smaller man made.  Adam couldn’t move, couldn’t touch Blake or himself, couldn’t do anything except lie there and take what his new husband was giving him.  Blake had taken complete control, taken away Adam’s usual methods to regulate what was happening, and was refusing to let any part of himself touch Adam’s needy cock.  It was simultaneously the most frustrating and erotic thing they’d done to date.

            “Oh, you son of a bitch!” Adam cried.  “Let me go!  You’re not really here, and I don’t want to remember…”

            “What?”  Blake’s voice was husky as he continued to fuck him.  “How you moaned and called my name?  How you cursed me out?  Or how you finally came untouched for the first time in your life?”

            “I don’t want to remember that when I wake up, you won’t be there the way you were that morning,” Adam gasped.  He could feel his orgasm building, the memory of that night so clear and vivid that he could even feel the softness of the hotel sheets, hear the slight squeaking of the mattress as Blake thrust into him, smell the odors of sex and sweat and the faint lingering aftershave Blake had used.

            “I’ll come home, Adam,” Blake soothed, continuing to pound away at him.  “I swear it.  One day soon, you’ll wake up and I’ll be there, right beside you where I belong.”

            And with that, Adam went over the edge.  And just as he’d done that night, Blake clamped a hand over Adam’s mouth, impishly muffling Adam’s cries as his own orgasm hit, not letting Adam have even that much control.

            And then they were standing on the beach.  The setting sun provided a red-gold light, sparkling from the waves that washed over the beach.  The sand was warm beneath Adam’s bare feet.  Blake stood behind him, his arms wrapped around Adam as they both looked out at the ocean.

            Adam chuckled.  “More from our honeymoon,” he realized.  “The beach.  We were out here watching the sun set almost every evening.”

            Blake’s hand slid down, fingers worming beneath the hem of Adam’s shirt.  “You always did like to walk on the beach.  It was just you and me and the ocean most of the time.”

            Adam closed his eyes and turned his head, pressing his cheek against Blake.  Blake had succeeded in getting a hand beneath Adam’s shirt.  Now his fingers were tracing small circles over Adam’s abdomen.  “We’d drink from coconut shells,” Adam recalled.  “And the weather was perfect the whole week.”

            “Remember when we went swimming in that lake under the waterfall?”

            And just like that, they were there.  The water was cool and unbelievably clear.  Adam looked and saw Blake coming towards him under the water.  He laughed and frantically tried to swim away, but Blake simply grabbed his leg and pulled him under.  The big man tucked Adam under one arm and broke the surface, swimming backwards towards the waterfall, towing Adam along.

            Adam lay back, resting his head against Blake’s shoulder, and simply allowed it.  He looked up at the sky, letting his new husband handle him as he saw fit.  The sky was an incredible shade of blue, the same color as Blake’s eyes.

            Blake pulled Adam back behind the waterfall and got his feet under him, lifting Adam partially out of the water to sit him on one of the mossy stones behind the falling curtain of water.  The blue eyes twinkled, water dripping from his hair.  “You remember what I did back here?”

            Adam nodded.  His breathing became quicker as Blake tugged down Adam’s swimming shorts, exposing him to the cool, misty air.  Then he gasped as the coolness were replaced by the heat of his husband’s mouth.  He moaned, clutching at Blake’s wet hair.  Blake was doing some amazing things with his mouth.  In moments, Adam was gasping.  “Blake!  You need to come home.  We need more memories like this!  And I don’t just mean the sex.  I mean those times when it was just you and me, together.”

            “Like this?”

          Dim light.  A crackling fire, and a Christmas tree, with a menorah next to it.  Adam was wearing one of his beloved ugly sweaters.  A hand-made quilt covered him.  A steaming mug of chocolate was in his hands.  He felt snug and cozy and warm as he lay on the couch.

            Blake sat in his chair, quietly reading.  His left hand was in Adam’s hair, gently playing with the short dark locks.  Blake, too, was wearing an ugly Christmas sweater, this one featuring a reindeer’s head with a blinking red nose that flashed beneath the book Blake was reading.  Blake’s legs were clad in their usual jeans, but his feet sported a pair of Christmas socks.  They were white with red toe and heel and the words “Ho Ho Ho!” printed all over them.

            Adam chuckled.  “I forgot about the silly Christmas socks your sister gave us!”  He poked a foot out from under the quilt, admiring his own matching sock.  “These were so great!”

            “You’re an idiot,” Blake told him fondly.  He continued to play in Adam’s hair as he smiled over at him.  “I still want to know where you found this damned sweater!”

            “I have my sources.”  Adam tilted his head back, looking adoringly at Blake.  “Even Carson liked that sweater!”

            “Carson laughed his ass off when he saw this sweater,” Blake corrected.  “That doesn’t mean he liked it.”

            “He loved it,” Adam said, confident.  “Who could not love a sweater like that?  It’s got a blinking Rudolph nose!”

            “Ladies and gentlemen, I rest my case!”  Blake chuckled and leaned over to plant a kiss on Adam’s forehead.  “I wish I was back here, Rockstar.  I wish I’d never gone away.  All I want to do is come home.”

            “We’ll get you home,” Adam vowed.  “Castiel’s working on it.  We’ll figure something out, I swear it!  I’ll never give up on you, Big Country.”

            Blake smiled.  Then the smile faded.  “It’s so strange here,” he said softly.  “A whole other reality!  Everything’s so similar, yet different.  And I miss you, Rockstar.  I miss you so much!”

            Adam stilled.  He couldn’t bear the sadness and longing in his husband’s voice.  “Where are you now?” he asked.  “What’s happening to you?”

            “I’m not alone,” Blake told him.  “I’ve got people here, friends.  But I’d rather have you.”

            Adam sat up.  “Where are you, Blake?  Where?”

            “Come and see!  I’ve got me one hell of a nice ride!”

            And suddenly, they were in a car.  Adam blinked in surprise.  This was somehow different.  Adam couldn’t put his finger on why, except that he had no memory of ever being in this car before.  It was a big, black muscle car, with a powerful engine.  Blake was at the wheel.  He seemed to be enjoying himself a great deal.  Adam supposed he understood why.  Blake had always been a bit of a motorhead.  Adam didn’t know enough about cars to be able to tell what, exactly, his big man was driving here.  In all likelihood, it was something Adam had seen once and then forgotten.  But even in this dream, Adam could still appreciate the car.  It purred smoothly, eating up the long stretch of road they traveled with the ease only a perfectly-maintained machine could do.  The radio was on, a country station.  Naturally.  Well, at least it wasn’t a pick-up truck with a rifle rack.  This dream had at least that much going for it.  Adam gave himself kudos for creativity.  The dash of the car even had a cassette player!  Blake would have been proud.

            Adam looked out the window and saw nothing but flat plains.  Ahead of them, the road was a straight stretch that went on and on until it vanished into the distance.  Then Blake sped up slightly and the powerful engine immediately responded, smoothly eating up the distance.  Ok, that was pretty nice.  Adam smiled.  At least he’d given Blake a sexy car in his dream.

            Blake certainly seemed to be enjoying it.  “Pretty sweet, huh?” he asked.  He was grinning like a kid at Christmas as he drove.  “Dean’s Baby is quite the girl!”

            Adam nodded.  Blake was flat-out adorable like this, lost in admiration over a car.  His blue eyes were bright, his dimples a constant presence from his perpetual grin of delight.  Of course Blake would love a car like this.  And even Adam had to admit it was a damned fine machine.  Castiel hadn’t mentioned that his Righteous Man was a motorhead, but apparently, he had a real talent, at least in Adam’s dreams.  “What the hell is this guy doing chasing monsters around?” Adam wondered aloud.  “He should get into the restoration business and make a fortune!”

            Blake nodded.  “We still have that old mustang at the ranch.  Maybe we can get him to take a look?”

            “Castiel told me about this guy,” Adam warned.  “You sure you want to subject us to Dean Winchester any more than we have to be?”

            Blake tilted his head to one side.  His tongue protruded a bit from his mouth as he thought.  “Yeah,” he said at last.  “Dean’s a piece of work, but once you understand him, get to know him a bit?  He’s not half bad.  Hell, he let us take his Baby out for a drive, didn’t he?”

            “That he did.”  Adam checked out the window, looking for road signs.  “Where are we, anyway?”

            “Kansas,” Blake told him.  “There should be a nice flat stretch of road ahead.”  His face broke into a grin as he indicated the car.  “I’d love a chance to open her up, see what our princess can do?”

            Same old Blake.  Any excuse to sate that innate need for speed the cowboy seemed to have.  Adam grinned.  “Hell yeah!” he called.  This should be fun.

            Blake’s smile widened.  “Then tighten your seatbelt.  I’m about to set this girl free!”

            Adam expected Blake to stomp the gas.  But Blake simply walked the big muscle car up to speed.  Soon, the landscape was flying by.  Adam had to admit, it was fun.  He laughed, enjoying the sheer childlike joy on his husband’s face even more so than the experience.

            And then his phone rang.

            Adam raised his head, sleep falling away like a wave.  He’d wrapped one of Blake’s bathrobes around a pillow and had been snuggling against it for comfort.  Now he discovered he’d had his face pressed tight against it, seeking out Blake in his sleep.  No wonder he’d had such a vivid dream.  For a moment, he could still hear the rumble of a powerful engine, mixed with a country song sung in an oddly-familiar voice.  Then he was fully awake.  He groaned and sat up, wincing in the bright sunlight from his window.  A guy couldn’t even nap in peace some days.  Grumbling, he reached for his phone, frowned when he saw his agent’s name, and answered.  “Yeah?”

            “Where the hell did you get that Castiel guy?!”

            “He’s a blessing from Heaven,” Adam told him.  “He fell from the sky, so I scooped him up and took him home.”

            “Well, go back out to wherever he fell and see if you can’t scoop up another one!” the agent ordered.  “Scoop up three!”

            Adam sleepily rubbed his eyes.  “He’s one of a kind.  What’s going on?”

            “I’ll tell you what’s going on!  The press is going crazy over him, Adam!  That throw with the microphone stand is on every news broadcast.  What a shot!  And he shrugged off three bullets?!”

            “Yeah.”  Adam shivered, the last of the warm feelings from his dream vanishing.  “Three bullets that were meant for me!”

            “I know, Adam, I know.  Listen, you talked to the police and then asked for a day to let everyone recover, and you got it.  But the whole world is looking at your bodyguard now!  People are going to want to talk to this guy!  He any good in an interview?  Please tell me we can put that beautiful, wonderful man in front of a camera!”

            Adam considered Castiel.  “I don’t think that would be the best idea.  He kind of lacks a brain-mouth filter, Steve, and his people skills aren’t exactly charm school material.  If someone interviews him, only God knows what he might say.”

            “Aw shit!  Well, we’ll work around it, pre-arranged questions and scripted answers.  I’ll see what I can do.”

            “Yeah, asking him to read a script probably isn’t going to work, either,” Adam sighed.  “Castiel is not an actor, ok?  I really think putting him in front of a camera is out.”

            “Really?”  Even over the phone, Adam could hear his agent’s face fall.  “Well, shit!  That’s going to be a real issue.  We can probably get away with not letting him do interviews by saying he’s working, which is true.  But Castiel’s about to face a media feeding frenzy!”  He paused.  “I cannot believe some fucker actually took a shot at you, Adam!  You’re both alright?  They think the shooter got in from the roof, which is how he got up into the lights.  And I heard that bastard had a high-powered rifle!  Castiel must have felt like he was getting hit by a truck, even with a vest on.  And he never even flinched!  He’s gotta be nothing but bruises, though.  Did he get badly hurt?  Has he been to a doctor?”

            “Castiel’s fine.  We’re both fine.”  Adam glanced around his room.  No sign of his angel.  Naturally.  Castiel was probably either downstairs or in one of the guest rooms across the hall.  The night after the concert, on the advice of his agent, Adam and his band had flown out to Los Angeles and the painfully empty home Adam shared with his husband on the west coast.  Castiel hadn’t said anything about the flight, except to mention that Dean was afraid of flying.  But he’d let Adam cling to him the entire trip.  He’d even willingly stayed all night in Adam’s room, but it didn’t surprise Adam that he wasn’t there now.  Adam had asked him to stay in the room last night at least until he fell asleep, and Castiel had done so.  But he’d likely left as soon as Adam was asleep.  And of course he hadn’t come in now, when Adam was napping.  That was ok.  Adam was sure his angel was somewhere close.  “Do we have any idea who that guy was, who he was with?” Adam asked his agent.

            “None whatsoever.  So far, none of the usual hate groups have claimed credit, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t part of one of ‘em.  They just might have tossed him, since he failed so miserably.  Three shots and not a single casualty, then taken down by a fucking microphone stand!  Adam, I swear, I could kiss this Castiel guy!  That his first name, or his last?”

            “It’s his only name.”  Adam rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.  “Listen, I really don’t want him bothered.  Do you think you can keep the dogs at bay?  I’ll talk to whoever the hell I have to, but put the word out that Castiel still isn’t available for interviews, ok?”

            “That’s gonna come back and bite us in the ass, Adam,” the agent warned.  “Honestly, it’s a miracle you didn’t have people with cameras already climbing your fence!  If you don’t let them have a little piece of this guy now, they’re gonna try to dig up anything they can on him, pester his friends and neighbors, and go insane trying to get an exclusive!”

            “I realize that, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take.”  Good luck trying to pester Castiel’s friends and neighbors. “The band’s coming over today, right?”

            “Should be there by 1700.  That’s less than an hour from now!  Don’t tell me you’re still in bed?!”

            “Dude, someone tried to kill me, ok?” Adam protested.  “I got hardly any sleep that night, I was up all day yesterday dealing with police and security shit, and last night was the first time I had time to rest.  I’m entitled to a nap after that!”  Besides, Castiel had insisted on it.  His angel was taking this whole “guard Adam’s body” thing very seriously.  Adam thought it was frankly adorable and was willing to put up with it for now.

            “Alright, I’ll back off.”  The agent paused.  “You had a damned close call, Adam.  I’m glad you’re alright, and I’m really glad you hired Castiel!”

            “Yeah,” Adam said.  “Me, too.”

            “Whatever you’re paying him, tack on whatever he wants to get him to stay.  You do _not_ want to lose someone like that!”

            “I hear you.”  Adam was frowning now as he hung up.  No, he didn’t want to lose Castiel.  Along with his proven worth as a bodyguard and his ability to comfort him with just a touch, Adam realized he genuinely liked the angel.  It was next to impossible not to.  Even when Castiel had lost his temper that day, his angel was immediately back to being his sweet, gentle self as soon as it was over.  In the short time they’d been together, Adam considered him a good friend.  And, tell the truth and shame the devil, he didn’t want Castiel to leave.  Yeah, it was selfish.  Castiel had his own life, and friends that were probably every bit as fond of his angel as Adam himself was.  Adam had every intention of doing whatever his angel needed to help him get home, back to this Dean guy that he clearly felt obligated to.  But with no way to connect back to his own reality, the truth was that Castiel might be stuck here indefinitely.  And as far as Adam was concerned, that wasn’t really a bad thing.  Look at how well he was already fitting into Adam’s life!  Blake, he knew, would love Castiel.  And while Adam had no desire to see his angel trapped, if it happened?  Adam would make absolutely certain that his angel knew he was welcomed.

            Adam got up and got dressed.  Then he went looking for Castiel.  His band was coming over, and his angel needed to know what he was about to be in for.  Somehow, Adam suspected that taking three bullets from a high-powered rifle would be a lot easier for Castiel than dealing with Maroon 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr Fun groaned about the mushy stuff. Chuckled when he recognized the scene in the Impala. Said he can only imagine how Castiel is going to deal with a rock band.


	8. Chicken Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maroon 5 is determined that their new bodyguard will feel welcome among them, no matter if Castiel wants to or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun tells me that I should apologize to my readers for the video I use here. I refuse.
> 
> Diegetic song here is "Bad To The Bone" by George Thorogood  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QqejB3Nk1RA

            Adam caught up on the news while he waited for his band to show up.  Sure enough, his angel was the talk of the town.  The press had figured out that Adam was back in L.A., and that his mysterious new bodyguard with him.  Now everyone wanted to know who Castiel was.  Video from the concert was all over the news once again.  Everyone had something to say about the amazing throw, and the way Adam’s bodyguard, who looked so physically unassuming, had simply shrugged off three direct hits from a high-powered rifle.  While the speculation about the exact nature of the relationship between them was still happening, for the most part Castiel’s newly-revealed status as “badass bodyguard” went a long way towards explaining why Adam constantly kept him near.  After all, it made perfect sense that Adam would stay near someone like Castiel after what had happened to Blake, especially now that Castiel had proven his worth.

            As an added bonus, the FBI were rumored to be now conducting a “serious investigation” into the hate groups that were currently targeting Adam.  Adam, apparently, had become public enemy number one for several of them.  Bigots like the White Knights could cloak the unreasonable hatred for Adam that had always been there behind a mask of righteousness, claiming they were seeking “justice” for Blake.  Adam had already been warned that this was making them bold.  In fact, when he’d spoken with the police, they’d told him it was possibly the reason that someone had tried to take his life.  The sobering knowledge that this unreasonable hatred had driven a man to try to actively murder another human being at a benefit concert made Adam’s blood run cold.  He prayed that something like this would never happen again.  Then he immediately followed it up with yet another prayer of thanks for the comforting presence of his angel.

            Of course, Castiel didn’t understand any of it.  His angel’s only concerns were finding hunters and protecting Adam.  Adam had gotten his angel a smart phone, and Castiel was using it to continue searching for hunters any time he was away from a computer.  But that, and their new location, seemed to be the only changes he’d registered.  In Castiel’s eyes, the fact that someone had tried to shoot Adam at a benefit concert didn’t seem to be much more than business as usual.  The angel was completely unfazed by anything that had happened.

 

            Given what Castiel had said about his status to other supernatural creatures, Adam had worried a bit.  But Castiel wasn’t bothered much by the new attention he’d drawn to himself, either.  Of course, what he’d said about monsters avoiding the spotlight certainly would apply now.  When he’d gone out to help Adam by getting the mail, Castiel had been surprised by the crowd at Adam’s gate, yelling and taking his picture.  He’d stood as he was, watching the crowd, perfectly still for so long that some of them started asking him if he was alright.  But once he’d apparently decided they weren’t a threat, he’d simply gotten the mail and returned to the house.  And after that, he’d ignored them completely.  And that, Adam discovered, was how his angel operated.  Castiel was completely undisturbed by the chaos that swarmed around them.  If something new happened that might constitute a threat, Castiel would study it, the blue eyes watching with a laser-like intensity.  Then, as long as either Adam assured him or the angel decided for himself it wasn’t a threat, Castiel would ignore it.  And nothing seemed to bother him at all.

            Nothing, that was, except Maroon 5.

            Adam’s bandmates were their usual rowdy selves.  They’d acted like fools in the living room, something which had puzzled Castiel initially.  The angel had watched the band wrestling around and goofing off, clearly trying to decide if they constituted a threat.  But Adam had started acting like a bigger idiot than usual, hamming it up and egging everyone on until eventually Castiel relaxed a bit.  Adam had no idea what his angel thought.  The blue eyes scanned the rowdy group in silence, somehow keeping his distance even though Adam made him sit in their midst.  But at least he wasn’t sitting stiffly, watching for an attack.  Adam considered that a victory.

            Unfortunately, that wasn’t good enough for Maroon 5.  Now that Castiel had saved their lives, the grateful group was determined to draw their bewildered bodyguard in.  The fact that Castiel was obviously on the job made no difference to any of them.  They’d gone out into the town, talking over each other as usual, laughing, joking, and teasing each other as they went.  They swarmed around Castiel like bees, constantly seeking his attention.  The confused angel was forced to try to respond to the band and still keep an eye out for trouble.  And Adam only encouraged it.

            So far, the only problem had come when an asshole with a camera, tired of being ignored, had made the mistake of catching hold of the sleeve of Castiel’s trench coat to try to get his attention.  Adam hadn’t even seen his angel move.  All he’d seen was the photographer flying backwards to land on the hood of a car.  To their credit, the crowd had backed off fast.  The idiot who’d gone flying immediately started yelling about a lawsuit.  But Castiel had already decided that the man wasn’t a threat and had his back to him, continuing to monitor the band as if nothing had happened.  Adam loved it.  Let the bastard try to sue.  Castiel was only doing his job.  The moron had grabbed hold of a bodyguard on active duty, and gotten a first-hand demonstration of just how fast his angel’s reflexes were.  Fuck him.  Castiel was protecting the band and that was the only thing that mattered.

            Adam’s bandmates apparently agreed.  They’d already been openly admiring their bodyguard.  Suddenly, they were Castiel’s biggest fans.  They’d already seen that Castiel was tough and dedicated.  Now they knew he was also fast and deceptively strong.  The whole group had turned into massive fanboy idiots, all trying to out-do each other in heaping outlandish, over the top praise on their new bodyguard.  As far as they were concerned, he could do no wrong.

            “Adam, where the hell did you find this guy?”

            “Yeah, there any more like him?”

            “Why, you looking for a date?”

            “He is pretty!”

            “Yeah, dude, you interested?”

            “Fuck you guys!  I’m as straight as the stick up our bodyguard’s ass!”

            “Castiel, for real, buddy, you’re awesome and all, but you do have a stick up your ass.”

            “Hey guys, you realize that, since he’s our bodyguard, we’re going to have to do a serious stick-ectomy?”

            “Yeah, Castiel, loosen up, dude!”

            “How’s he gonna loosen up dressed like that?”

            “He looks like a telemarketer!”

            “He looks like an insurance salesman.”

            “Oh bullshit, we know he’s a badass!  Our boy looks like John Constantine!”

            “Holy shit you’re a nerd!”

            “You got the reference, asshole, what’s that make you?”

            “Hey Castiel, say ‘bollocks’ once, would you?”

            “Why would I say that?”

            “Just do it, please?”

            Castiel blinked, looking completely lost.  “...Bollocks?”

            General laughter.

            “Constantine!”

            “Definitely Constantine.”

            “That’s cool, and all, but he’s kind of messing up our image, guys!  If he looked like Batman, it would be one thing, but can you really see John Constantine running around with a rock band?”

            “Man’s got a point.”

            “I like Constantine!  But yeah, you’re still kind of right.  It is time to get you out of that trench coat!”

            “Actually, it’s an overcoat?” Castiel ventured.

            Loud laughter.

            “That’s it, we gotta do something about this.”

            “Castiel, you cannot guard this band looking like that!”

            “Get out the Barbie dolls, boys, it is time to play dress-up!”

            That was how Maroon 5 decided to give their bodyguard a make-over.  And the next thing Adam knew, they’d dragged Castiel to a clothing shop, determined to address his image.

 

            It was the first time Adam saw his angel look worried.  “I don’t understand,” he called as the band tugged and pulled and pushed him through the door.  “Why are you insisting on changing my clothes?  None of you appear to be wearing uniforms!  So why are you saying that I don’t match your group when none of you appears to match each other?”

            “This whole Constantine vibe you got going on is cool and all,” PJ explained as they forced their reluctant bodyguard inside, “but you are one badass motherfucker, Castiel!  A suit, tie, and trench coat just doesn’t do it anymore, man!  That was fine when you were trying to lie low, made you look innocent enough.  But now the whole world knows you’re an ass kicker!  You gotta look the part!”

            And just like that, Adam’s confused angel had been all but shoved into the changing rooms, with two clerks assigned to assist him.  Then the band started racing around, picking out items and sending them back to the changing rooms for Castiel to try on.  A loud argument broke out several times when the band disagreed on something.  But “just get them both” quickly became the refrain, and the pile of clothing for purchase grew.  The band lined up outside of the changing rooms, loudly discussing clothing options.

            “We’re spending his whole first paycheck,” Matt noted, eyeing the pile.  “Maybe we should take it easy, guys?  Dude’s gotta eat!”

            “Fuck that!” Mickey exclaimed.  “It’s his damned uniform, and that’s a work expense.  We’re spending Adam’s paycheck!”

            “Hey!” Adam protested.

            Instantly, the pile grew larger.

            Maroon 5 was nothing if not dramatic.  Adam supposed he may have egged them on a bit, especially when he started playing “Bad To The Bone” on his cell phone.  Before long, they’d convinced the manager to let Sam load the song into the store’s overhead speaker system while the clerks finished with Castiel back in the fitting rooms.  And when the clerks announced that Castiel was ready, they were all filming with their phones when the guitar rang out at full volume.

            Right on cue as the bass kicked in, Castiel came out.  He’d been stripped of his familiar trench coat, suit and tie.  Heavy leather boots with jingling silver chains were on his feet.  His legs were encased in faded, torn jeans that showed off his slim form.  He wore a snug-fitting dark shirt and dark sunglasses.  And over one shoulder, he carried a black leather jacket.  “I don’t understand the point of this costume,” he announced.

            Of course, no one paid attention.  The band had been making such a spectacle of themselves fussing over their bodyguard that pretty much everyone in the store had gathered near the changing room.  Now cheers, applause and wolf whistles joined the camera flashes.  Adam whooped louder than anyone, pumping his fist.  “I said _damn,_ boy!” he yelled.  “You look awesome!”

            “Are the dark glasses necessary indoors?” Castiel wanted to know.  “And why do I have a coat if I’m only going to carry it over my shoulder?  Shouldn’t I be wearing it?”  He seemed to be looking at Adam.  “I would be better able to provide protection if I wore it?”

            “Sure, go ahead,” Adam agreed, suddenly remembering the dagger Castiel kept hidden in his sleeve.  He wondered what the clerks had thought when they’d found it strapped to his angel’s wrist?  Well, that was a benefit of shopping in L.A. instead of in Oklahoma.  The people here had seen damned near everything.  No one was likely to make any sort of fuss over it.

            Castiel slipped the jacket on.  Then he made a quick move along his arm where Adam recalled the dagger being and nodded.   “Better.”

            “He’s got a sense of style after all!  I love this guy!” James announced.  He ran up and pounded the angel on the back, and then addressed the crowd.  “Ladies and gentlemen, meet Castiel, the most badass bodyguard in the history of modern music!”

            More cheers.  Castiel gave a confused half-smile and waved.

            “I don’t know,” Matt mused aloud.  “Maybe he should just carry that jacket?  He kind of looks a bit like the Fonz with it on.”

            “Aaaaaaye!” Castiel called, giving him the thumbs up.  That brought the house down, laughter ringing out all around. 

            Adam, laughing so hard he was doubled over, threw his arm around his angel.  “Let’s get this nut out of here!” he gasped.  “We got five hours to kill before I gotta do that interview.”

            The band gathered the bags of new clothing and marched out to the car.  Adam loved every minute of it.  For the first time, his angel actually _looked_ like he was part of the band!  Granted, Castiel looked uncomfortable.  He remained diligent, always keeping his role as bodyguard in mind even as the band swarmed and joked around him.  And the band, for their part, didn’t seem worried at all.  Six guys who’d just been shot at looked just as relaxed and cheerful as if it had never happened.  Obviously, Adam’s angel was providing comfort to far more than just Adam himself.  Did his friends feel better just by touching Castiel, as Adam did?  No way to know.  All he knew was that they were out, they were together, they were in the heart of the city closest to Adam’s heart, and they were determined to have a good time.

            If Blake had been there, it would have been the perfect day.  No, don’t think about that now.  The band had been through an ordeal, and they needed to relax.

            The band was wired for sound and largely out of control by now, talking over each other and carrying on.  Sam was demanding attention when Adam and Castiel piled into the car with him.  “Castiel, don’t get me wrong, cat,” he began.  “You’re amazing and all, but seriously, dude, you gotta loosen up!  That Fonz thing you did back there gave me a little hope for you.  Maybe we can get that stick out of your ass yet!”

            Castiel’s eyebrow cocked above the dark glasses.

            “What did you have in mind?” PJ wanted to know.

            “We can always get him shitfaced drunk?” James suggested.

            Adam groaned.  “Dude, I have an interview in five hours!  How the hell is he supposed to protect me if he’s passed out drunk and snoring backstage?”

            “Fine,” James declared.  “We’ll go clubbing and get him wasted tonight!”

            That was met with general cheering.

            “We still need to do something to help him chill out,” Sam insisted.  “Somebody think of something!”

            “Could take him to a massage parlor?”

            “Are you shitting me?”

            “Yeah, why not just get him a fucking pedicure?  Moron!”

            “I don’t hear you suggesting anything, dickhead!”

            “Well, we can’t just sit around playing Tiddly Winks, for fuck’s sake!”

            “I’d rather play Twister.”

            “That would loosen him up!”

            “I ain’t playing Twister with Adam!  That fucker’s got an unfair advantage with that damned yoga shit!”

            “Oh, just admit it, man!  You just want to drape yourself all over our sexy as fuck bodyguard!”

            “I’ll concede that he’s sexy as fuck.”

            “He is sexy as fuck!”

            “I’m not even gay and I think he’s sexy as fuck!”

            “Ok, we’ve established that Castiel is sexy as fuck,” Adam called, seeing Castiel’s eyebrows vanishing into his hairline.  “But we have not yet solved the problem!  Come on, dammit, what can we do?”

            “Castiel, do you even know how to laugh?”

            “Of course I know how to laugh!” Castiel exclaimed.

            “Proof or it didn’t happen!”

            “Yeah, let’s show him a comedy or something!”

            “I got a better idea.  Soon as we get back, I’m bringing up the chicken yodeler!”

            Yells and cheers rang out from the car.  Adam joined in, grinning wolfishly at Castiel.  His poor angel had no idea what was coming.

            A short time later, the band stampeded into Adam’s house, dragging Castiel along with them.  Sam immediately cued up the video, putting it up on the main screen.  Castiel, looking completely confused, was positioned in front of it.  Someone took his glasses.  His eyes looked worried.

            [And then the video started.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ppm5_AGtbTo)

            Adam was cracking up before it even began.  The video featured an Asian man dressed in lederhosen, singing to chickens.  And then the singer broke into yodeling.  Castiel’s eyes went wide, and Adam was literally on the floor.  The video made him laugh every time, but nothing matched the look on his angel’s face.  Castiel looked somewhat horrified.  His blue eyes bulged, staring at the yodeling man with his mouth gaping.  The yodeling was followed by the man in the video clucking and bobbing his head like a chicken, and Castiel flinched back as if struck.  All seven band members collapsed, laughing until tears ran down their cheeks.

            The angel crept closer to the screen, as if sneaking up on the man in the video.  His face was a picture of wariness now, eyes narrowed and head ducked.  That only made it worse.  Adam was gasping for air and feeling lightheaded.

            “Is he possessed, or mentally ill?” Castiel asked.

            And now Adam was in real danger of passing out.  “No!” he managed.  “No, buddy, he’s just doing this crazy silly thing because it’s silly and fun!”

            Castiel seemed to consider this as the video came to an end.  “I’m going to say ‘mentally ill,’ then,” he announced.  “I see no other reason to subject one’s self to that.”

            The band, which had just started to recover, started laughing again.  Castiel turned, looking them all over, noting the tear-streaked, flushed faces.  “You all,” he announced, “look ridiculous.”

            More laughter.  PJ was begging for mercy.  Jesse was crawling towards the bathroom.  James, Mickey, and Matt were in various stages of disarray on the sofa.  Adam wasn’t sure what had happened to Sam.  But unfortunately, his angel hadn’t even so much as cracked a smile.

            Castiel sighed.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I just don’t understand the appeal of watching a man who is clearly suffering from a serious mental illness make a fool of himself in a video.”

            “Ok, try this,” Adam suggested.  “Think of someone you don’t like.  How about that Crowley guy?”

            His angel made a face.  “I prefer to think of him as infrequently as possible.”

            “Ok, that’s actually perfect!” Adam declared.  “Now picture him under the influence of a magic spell, dressed in lederhosen, doing exactly what the guy in the video was doing.”

            Castiel blinked.  He blinked again, looking towards the screen where he’d just seen the ridiculous video.  And then his face broke into a predatory grin.  He chuckled, shaking his head.  Then finally, he was laughing hysterically among the cheers and flashing cameras of the band.

            Then they immediately dragged him back out again.

            Adam had changed and insisted that his bodyguard change his clothes as well, ignoring the groans and insults of his band.  Castiel was still wearing the leather jacket.  Adam did a quick check, casually taking hold of his angel’s wrist, and had felt the weird silver dagger in its sheath under the sleeve.  He’d suspected that his angel had somehow magicked it there back at the shop.  If something went wrong, the presence of a concealed weapon would be difficult to explain away to the police.  Oh well.  Castiel was an established bodyguard now, after all.  It made sense that he’d want to go armed, and if that caused a legal problem, well, Adam knew several lawyers who would deal with that as it came up.  Besides, Castiel was walking around with a small smile on his face now, finally seeming to enjoy the comradery within the group.  He was beyond handsome when he smiled.

            The fact that their bodyguard was clearly far more relaxed now was enough to even suit Adam’s rabid band.  Drunk on their own success, the band chose to walk right down the busy sidewalk, confident in Castiel’s ability to protect them.  Adam was pleased to note that, while he and his band were immediately recognized, bystanders had taken one look at Castiel, instantly recognized him as well, and had kept a respectful distance.  Even the reporters had learned their lesson.  His angel didn’t have to do anything more than look serious and keep a watchful eye.  It was a huge victory, and Adam was practically skipping.  Naturally, the band caught his mood and amplified it.  It was worse than any drug.  They piled into a fancy restaurant, drawing tons of attention to themselves as they laughed and joked and teased each other.

            Adam wasn’t sure who to feel more sorry for, the other customers, or the wait staff.  He didn’t feel sorry for his angel at all.  Castiel had tried to politely decline ordering.  That had not been well received by the band.  To a man, they refused to accept Castiel’s insistence that he wasn’t hungry.  When Adam had suggested they order for Castiel if they wanted him to eat, a loud argument immediately started over what to order.  The six members were divided evenly between steak and ocean whitefish.  Adam, sensing an opportunity for amusement, had opened the table to debate.  Half of the table was loudly extolling the unmatched virtues of medium-rare steak, sizzling hot and juicy.  The other half was singing the praises of fresh whitefish, flaky and mouthwatering with a spray of lemon.  Now other amused patrons at the neighboring tables had started to weigh in their opinions on the matter.  And Castiel had gone still and quiet, wide blue eyes moving around the table looking somewhat worried.

            Yup, Adam decided, he felt sorry for the wait staff.  The other patrons seemed highly entertained by their antics.  But Maroon 5 was a burden no waiter should be inflicted with.  He vowed to make sure the poor, patiently smiling waiter got a big tip.

            Finally, the issue was decided in favor of the steak by a flip of the coin.  The fish fans proved to be sore losers.  They stomped around the table, yelling about rigged coins and bemoaning the fact that poor, deprived Castiel would forever be denied the pleasures of the most amazing meal he would ever eat.  Mickey even stepped behind Castiel’s chair, bowed his head, and called for a moment of silence.

            “You idiots aren’t capable of being silent for a moment,” Adam declared.  “And it’s not like he can’t come here another day and try the stupid fish!”

            Mickey’s finger waved in Adam’s face.  “You blaspheme!  Blaspheme, I say!  Castiel, I mourn for your taste buds.  We all know Levine’s got no palate whatsoever anyway.”

            “I most certainly do!”

            “Oh bullshit!”  That was Sam.  “We’ve seen the shit you eat, Adam!  Anyone who can tolerate those stupid health shakes clearly has no sense of taste.”

            “Amen!” PJ agreed, raising a glass.  “That’s why it’s good Castiel’s getting the steak.  Because you assholes clearly have no sense of taste, either!”

            Yells, insults, and thrown napkins.  Then it only got worse when Matt, who had campaigned adamantly for the fish, calmly ordered a steak.  “What?” he asked when everyone gaped at him.  “I thought Castiel should have eaten the fish.  I’m having me a steak!”

            Adam was laughing so hard his sides ached.  The poor besieged waiter had just scurried off with their order when someone stormed up to Adam.  “How dare you?” the strange woman spat, instantly silencing the table.  “How can you sit here, laughing and carrying on, when your _husband_ is missing?”

            “Back off, lady,” James warned as Castiel got between them and several of the restaurant’s staff raced over to intervene.  “You don’t get to dictate how people react to losing someone they care about, ok?”

            “You’re a heartless bastard, Adam Levine!  Show a little decency and respect!” the woman spat, backing away as Castiel and the wait staff shooed her towards the door.  “Blake deserves at least that much!”

            “Wow, what a bitch,” Sam remarked.

            “Doesn’t change the fact that she’s absolutely right,” Adam declared.  He groaned, rubbing at his face, and then got up to pace in a small circle.  “What the hell am I doing here?  I’m fucking off around town with my band while Blake is God knows where!  What if he’s hurt?”  He whirled on his angel when Castiel returned to the table.  “Castiel, let’s go.  We need to get back to looking for Blake!”

            “Hold it.”  Jesse’s voice was soft, but his hand on Adam’s arm was firm.  “Adam, listen to me, ok?  Will you sit down for a moment and just listen?”

            Adam eyed him.  Then he sat back down, motioning Castiel to do the same.  “I’m listening, but make it quick.”

            “Quick fast version then.  Blake was kidnapped, right in front of you, out of your own house.  Those are the facts here, ok?  Now tell me this.  If you sat at home in sack cloth and ashes, constantly crying and wailing for him to come back, would he get back any faster than if you tried to put a little normalcy back into your life to keep yourself from going completely insane?  And which one do you think Blake would want you to do?”

            That hit hard.  Adam slumped in his chair.  “I really do feel like I’m going to go insane,” he confessed.  “Carson came over, warned me about people like that.  I know how it probably looks.  But what can I do?  And you’re right.  Blake never would have wanted me to fall apart.”

            Castiel’s hand moved to Adam’s shoulder and gently squeezed.  Almost immediately, Adam felt calmer.  He clung to Castiel’s hand on his shoulder and smiled at him.  “Don’t know what I’d do without you,” Adam said.  “Any of you.”

            “Then in that case, I think it’s time to clear the air, right here and now, in the middle of this restaurant.”  Jesse cleared his throat.  “Adam, I have been your friend for damned near all our lives.  And any one of the guys here would gladly go to Hell for you…”

            “Damned right!”

            “You know it!”

            “…But I need you to be honest with us now, ok?” Jesse continued.  “You and Castiel here.  What’s going on, man?  I mean, you live your own life, but…”

            Castiel immediately tried to pull away, but Adam held tight to his hand.  “No,” Adam said.  “It’s not like that with us, ok?  It’s real simple.  I’ve been hanging around with Castiel not just for protection, but also because he’s the only one who can get Blake back!”

            That got the attention of the table.

            “Really?”  James glanced at Castiel.  “He all Liam Neeson, got special skills and all that?”

            Adam nodded.  “Exactly.”

            “Hell, I believe it,” Sam declared.  “After the way our boy handled himself with that shooter, it’s obvious he’s got some real skills!”  He suddenly looked serious.  “But you gotta be careful, Adam.  I know you’re tactile as hell, but you gotta think about how it looks.  When people see Blake’s gone and you’re hanging all over Castiel, especially when he looks this good?”

            “I know, alright?” Adam snapped, irritated as Castiel pulled away.  “But it’s not like that!  I’m with him because he comforts me!  There’s nothing romantic about it.  He’s just the only thing that’s keeping me from a padded cell!”

            Sam raised his hands.  “Backing off.”

            Adam groaned, cradling his face in his hands.  “Sorry.  It’s just, no one seems to get it, and I can’t explain it any better than that!  There’s nothing between us, other than I like the guy and we’re friends…”

            “We are?” Castiel asked, sounding surprised.

            Adam gave him a look.  “Yes, we are!  Why wouldn’t we be?”

            “Not many would want to be considered my friend,” was all Castiel would offer.

            “Yeah, well, I would, and I suspect you got a whole table of people here who feel the same way,” Adam declared, indicating the nodding heads.  “But I digress.  Since Blake was taken, it’s been sheer hell.  I honestly believe that, if Castiel hadn’t been here, I would have collapsed long ago.  But with him being here?  I don’t know.  Maybe it’s knowing that he’s really doing something, making progress towards getting Blake back while he watches over me?  Doesn’t matter.  All that matters is that he _helps._ ”

            Jesse suddenly looked miserable.  “Dammit, Adam, this has been hell on all of us!  We all adore Blake!  You know that!  The idea that he’s out there somewhere, with God only knows what happening to him and I can’t get to him and help him?  That’s killing me, buddy!  And this whole time, I’ve been putting on an act for you, alright?  I figure, you got enough on your plate, you don’t need to know how much this is tearing me apart, too.  But it is, Adam!  It fucking is, ok?!”

            Adam looked at his friend, shocked to see tears standing in the other man’s eyes.  Then he heard a loud sniff and saw PJ starting to cry.  And then the whole band was in tears, and suddenly Adam was the center of a massive group hug.  His heart ached.  He’d known his friends cared deeply about Blake, but somehow it hadn’t hit him until now.  He wasn’t the only one who missed his husband.  His friends were hurting as well!  Adam looked up, wide-eyed, and saw his angel pacing next to the group, looking concerned.  “Get in here, Castiel,” he ordered.  “You’re part of our group now, alright?”

            Castiel moved closer.  He didn’t join in the group hug.  Instead, he gently put his hand on the back of Mickey, who was sobbing uncontrollably and leaning on the others.  And almost instantly, every one of them calmed.  Then six sets of surprised, puzzled eyes turned to regard Castiel. 

            “You know what, Adam?” Mickey said quietly.  “I don’t get it, the why of it, and maybe I never will.  But what you said, about how he comforts you?  I think maybe I understand what you mean!”

            Neither Castiel nor Adam replied.  The food arrived soon after and everyone ate in silence.  But over and over again, Adam saw the eyes of his friends linger on his angel, questioning.

            “You up to doing ‘Denim Jacket’ tonight?” Matt finally asked.  “That song you still try to pretend you didn’t write about Blake?”

            “I didn’t write it about Blake,” Adam grumbled.  “And yeah.  I’ll be fine.  What about you guys?”

            “We’ll keep it together if you can.”  PJ’s eyes were back on Castiel.  “Especially if we’ve got an angel on our shoulder!”

            Adam got teased constantly about his acting skills.  But he wished those people who had told he couldn’t act could see him now.  He’d never changed expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says no one should be subjected to that video. Thought it was a good move, though, what Adam did to get Cass to laugh. Gave the author a look at the angel comment. Thinks they’re starting to figure it out.


	9. Angel Lore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's moody and uncooperative. Adam learns some very interesting facts about angels!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been asked why I spell the shortened version of Castiel's name as "Cass" rather than the more popular "Cas." Initially, it was because I watch SPN with closed captions and that is how it is spelled. I later learned this is also how the writers spell the name. But once I learned the actual lore behind the angel, well, that sealed it!
> 
> Diegetic song here is "Denim Jacket" by Maroon 5  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMPGcsAeGlY

            Adam’s interview was going to be broadcast live, and he was a bit worried about it.  There were a lot of questions Adam simply wasn’t able to answer.  But fortunately, the hostess seemed to be willing to take it easy on him.  She spoke with him a bit before the interview, discussing the content.  Adam agreed to talk a little about what had happened to Blake, and where the investigation was going.  He asked to limit questions about his missing husband, citing the ongoing investigation.  She reluctantly agreed, but now she wanted to focus on the attack at the concert.  And that meant talking about Castiel.  She wanted the hero bodyguard to come out onto the stage with Adam during the interview to answer questions.  That made Adam simultaneously slightly anxious and very happy.  The idea of having his angel with him while he fielded questions offered its usual comfort. But Castiel was so literal and unpredictable, Adam was a bit worried about what, exactly, his angel would say on live television.  Well, so be it.  Adam told himself that he could step in if his angel said something too far out there. But at least, with Adam right there, Castiel could finally be safety interviewed.  Adam thought that would go a long way towards patching up relations with the public. 

            He’d dress for the occasion in one of Blake’s plaid shirts.  That would help, having something of Blake’s wrapped around him.  Then, with his angel at his side, Adam was sure that he could handle any question thrown his way.  Castiel, of course, would have to change his clothes again as well.  As much a Adam had enjoyed seeing the casual look, his angel would need to appear a bit more professional for this interview. Besides, Adam was enjoying playing dress-up with his angel so much that it went a long way towards helping relieve his tension.

            With his plans set, Adam went to prep Castiel and let him know what to expect.  Castiel hadn’t said anything.  But he hadn’t said much at all since the incident at the restaurant.  That was extremely disappointing.  It seemed his angel had retreated back into his shell, and had even gone deeper than before.  Now he barely responded other than the occasional one-word answer or a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.  The blue eyes seemed to be miles away.  It pissed Adam off.  All the hard work, all the progress they’d made with Castiel today, had been completely undone by one nosey loudmouthed bitch who felt it within her right to be rude to a complete stranger just because he happened to be famous! Whatever.  First, Adam decided, he would get through this interview.  Then he’d work on drawing Castiel right back out of his shell.  He was certain that, with the help of his band, they’d have his angel smiling again in no time.

            He was completely shocked when Castiel settled down in the dressing room at the studio and outright refused to come onstage during the interview.

            “I’ll stay here,” he told Adam.  “You don’t need me constantly with you.  You told me that everyone in the audience went through a metal detector, correct?  That means no one could have snuck another gun in.”

            “I’m not worried about a gun!” Adam protested. “Ok, I’m worried about a gun.  But mostly I just need you to keep me from falling to pieces on live TV!”

            “You’ll be fine,” Castiel grumbled, pulling away from Adam.  “Let go of me.”

            “And what if someone does try to attack me?” Adam challenged, grabbing his arm again.  “What then, huh, bodyguard?  You should be…”

            Castiel was having none of it.  “You know I can protect you.  You don’t have to have me right at your side!”  He stiffened, narrowing his eyes at Adam’s hands on his arm. “And you don’t have to hold on to me, either.  I’m not going to run away and abandon you!”

            “I know that!”

            “Then what are you doing, Adam?  I thought humans liked personal space, but you constantly hang on me!” he complained, pulling away again.  “Leave me alone!”

            Adam stilled, stung.  “I-I’m sorry, it’s just...”  He shook his head.  “I’m just scared, alright?”

            “Adam, I’ll be less than twenty feet away.  And I assure you, if I needed to get to you, no door or wall in this building could stop me!”

            “Ok, yeah, I’ll grant you that,” Adam agreed. “But why, Castiel?  They’re going to ask me about Blake, and you know how much that hurts!”

            “I also know that what your friend Carson said was right.”  Castiel’s voice was gentle, but firm.  “And what happened tonight at the restaurant was further proof.  I can’t shield you from the world, Adam!  You need to face it, and talk about Blake, no matter how much it hurts.  You’ve been using me as a crutch.  Now get off of me!  It’s time you learned to walk on your own again.”

            Adam sputtered.  “But I…!”

            Castiel held up a hand.  “No.  I’m not coming, and you’re not going to be able to force me or talk me into it.  Leave me alone, Adam.  This is something you need to do on your own.”

            Adam was flabbergasted.  “I don’t understand why you’re acting like this, but I guess I gotta accept it.  You’ll come if I call you?”

            “No, I most certainly will not come if you call me! I already told you I’m not going out there with you.  I’ll come if you need me, but only for something more pressing than your own peace of mind!”

            Castiel was certainly grumpy for some reason. His response had been sharp and waspish, and Adam blinked in surprise.  “Well…  How do I reach you, exactly?  I mean, you want me to send you a text, or…?”

            Castiel tapped a finger against Adam’s forehead. “Use this.  If you call for me, I’ll hear you.  And if you _need_ me, I’ll come.  Otherwise, I have every intention of ignoring you.”

            Adam thought that was grossly unfair.  But his angel was obviously brooding and irritable. Adam sighed and gave up.  “What are you going to do while I’m out there?” he asked.

            Castiel indicated the couch where he was sitting. “I guess I’ll just sit here quietly and wait for you.”

            “Dude, you can find something to do!  Look, there’s magazines, and…”  Adam’s voice trailed off.  The magazines he’d just picked up apparently featured an article on Blake.  The country star’s handsome, smiling face looked back at Adam from the cover.

            Adam’s knees went weak, dropping him with a thump into the seat next to Castiel.  He groaned, clutching the magazine to his chest.  “What am I doing, man?  What the hell am I doing?  That bitch at the restaurant was right!  I’m watching stupid YouTube videos and screwing off with the band and doing fucking TV interviews while this whole time, Blake is…!”

            “All you’ve been doing is treading water, finding a way to deal with your loss,” Castiel explained gently.  “Your band gets it.  They’ve been keeping you busy so you don’t have time to sit still and fall apart.  And you don’t have to fall apart, Adam, not over Blake.  He’s fine.”

            That was too much.  Adam whirled on Castiel.  “Don’t tell me he’s fine!  You don’t fucking know that, ok?!”

            It was the first time he’d yelled at his angel since the day Blake disappeared.  But Castiel appeared undisturbed.  His blue eyes were serious as he looked at Adam.  “I do know, because I believe in my heart that he’s with my friends,” he announced.  “They’ll protect him, Adam.  Trust that, and if you can’t trust that, then trust me.  Because I believe in them!”

            “Trust you?”  Adam rubbed at his face.  “I don’t have a choice, do I?  But I do trust you, Castiel.  You don’t even seem to understand how much!” 

            Castiel didn’t respond.

            Adam got up and reverently put the magazine into the rack.  Then he returned to the sofa.  He reached towards the angel and then hesitated, drawing back.  Castiel looked at him.  Then he reached out and took Adam’s hand.

            Immediately, the familiar comfort flooded through him. Adam gripped Castiel’s arm and leaned against him, resting his head on Castiel’s shoulder. Closing his eyes, Adam relaxed into the angel valium and meditated a moment, centering himself for his interview. Calmer, he looked up and made puppy eyes at his frowning angel.  “What if you just stand offstage where I can see you?” he ventured.  “You don’t have to answer any questions?”

            “No.  Now you’re calm again, so let go of me.”  Castiel irritably pulled away from the astonished singer.

            Adam blinked.  “Come on, buddy, what’s wrong?”

            “Nothing.  No, Adam, don’t touch me!” he warned as Adam frowned in confusion and reached towards him.  “Go away and leave me alone!”

            “Seriously?!”

            Castiel didn’t answer.  He was poking absently through a large candy dish filled with what appeared to be Skittles, apparently undisturbed by Adam’s imminent breakdown.

            “Fine!” Adam snapped.  He angrily shoved the candy dish at his angel, causing several of the colorful candies to scatter on the table.  “Sit in here and taste the rainbow, then!  I hope you get tooth decay, Castiel!”  He got up and stormed out.

            Yeah, ok, it was childish.  After everything that Castiel had done for him, Adam was secretly ashamed of himself for snapping at his angel like that.  But he couldn’t understand why Castiel was being so difficult all the sudden.  Of course, his angel was absolutely right in what he’d said.  Adam had been using Castiel as a crutch, rather than learning how to face what had happened.  But who could blame him?  No drug in the world could do what simply touching Castiel could do!  His angel valium was instant and undeniably powerful. Could anyone fault Adam if he was maybe a little addicted now?  And besides, there was a time and place to cut Adam off, and a weaning process. Forcing him to go cold turkey on live television was bullshit!

            Adam paused, glancing back down the hall, secretly hoping that Castiel would be poking his head out of the dressing room to check on him.  But the dressing room door remained stubbornly closed.  Troubled, Adam started walking again.  He didn’t understand what had just happened.  He’d been clingy with Castiel, sure, and a lot of people got tired of that fast.  But he’d been clinging to Castiel since the day Blake disappeared, and his angel hadn’t ever complained!  Sure, Castiel had been telling Adam to let go with increasing frequency now.  But always before, his angel did that gently, usually with a little reassuring smile.  Today, Castiel was like a whole different angel, one that was moody and angry, and simply wanted left alone.  It was nothing at all like Adam had become accustomed to.  Something was obviously very much on Castiel’s mind.  His angel was upset, and Adam didn’t know what to do.  Well, there was nothing for it now.  Regardless, Adam had just been shoved out into the cold with no apology or explanation. It was a shitty thing to do.

            He was still pissed off when he got to the hostess.  But he pasted on his smile and explained that his bodyguard had declined to be interviewed. She looked as disappointed as he was. Well, whatever was making Castiel so pissy, Adam hoped he got over it soon.  All of the soothing calm he’d felt a moment ago was gone.  His hands were already shaking when the interview began.

            Even so, the interview went better than he’d expected.  Adam found himself clutching tightly to the armrests while they briefly talked about Blake. “Whoever has him, if you’re watching? I want you to know that Blake’s an amazing man, and a really good person,” he told the cameras.  “And I love him.  Please let him come home!”

            At least the hostess had a keen eye.  She saw Adam’s increasing distress and immediately went to commercial to let him regain his equilibrium.  Adam sternly fought off the urge to run to Castiel and pounce on him, soaking up all the angelic comfort he could get.  But he knew Castiel probably wouldn’t appreciate it, and Adam still had some pride.  He buried his face in Blake’s shirt, managed to meditate, and got himself under control during the break.  That made him feel better.  It was good to know Adam was still capable of summoning enough self-control that he could manage to calm himself, even without the angel’s power.  But it still sucked that Castiel was refusing to help him. Even if Castiel never let Adam touch him again, a little moral support would have been nice!

            After the break, the hostess moved the conversation to the benefit concert.

            “Castiel’s kind of camera shy,” Adam explained by way of apology when she asked why his angel had yet to give a single interview.  “He does a lot of paramilitary type of work. As everyone knows now, he’s a good bodyguard, but his clients aren’t usually public figures like I am.  He usually has clients that are kind of the opposite of public figures, people in the shadows who need a specialist like him to keep them safe.  That means Castiel’s been fairly isolated.  So his social skills are, I’m sorry to say, lacking.  He’s always gotten by under the radar, so he never was exposed to the kind of attention he’s getting now.  Obviously, whatever anonymity he had before is gone now since he saved me at the concert. But this is all still pretty new to him, show business and cameras and such.”  He smiled and gave the hostess a flash of a smile.  “It’s kind of funny, isn’t it?  The guy isn’t afraid of bullets, but he sure does get stage fright!”

            “But he’s here today?”

            “He’s always with me,” Adam declared.  He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.  “He’s backstage, but he doesn’t want to be interviewed.”

            “That’s too bad,” the hostess said.  “I know we’re all curious about him.  I had also been hoping to ask him about his name.  But maybe you know, Adam?”

            Adam cocked an eyebrow.  “What about his name?”

            “Well, we did a little research,” she announced. “Did you know it’s the name of an angel?”

            “I did, actually,” Adam admitted, managing to keep a straight face.  “But honestly, not much more than that.”

            “Well,” she began, “there’s not much information on that particular angel, but it may be for a rather unusual reason.  You see, the name ‘Castiel,’ near as we can tell, is a variation of ‘Cassiel,’ which is the name of an archangel.”

            That got Adam’s attention.  “Archangel?”

            She nodded, pleased to be sharing this bit of trivia.  “There’s a bit more available about Cassiel.  The name means ‘Speed of God.’  Cassiel is said to be the patron angel of the oppressed, the downtrodden, and the unjustly persecuted, arriving when you are at your lowest to, and this is a quote from the internet, ‘Help shoulder the burdens of your woes and keep feelings of hopelessness at bay.’  He’s an angel of temperance and serenity.  Honestly, he sounds like he would be very nice to have around, especially now, with everything you’ve gone through recently!”

            “You don’t say!”  Adam was perched on the edge of his seat.  “Tell me more?”

            “Oh yes, it’s very interesting.  He is prince of the Seventh Heaven, and he oversees the death of kings.  Mostly, he observes humanity from afar, serene and not interfering in the affairs of mankind.  But he’s very special, because this is an angel that actually has human emotions!”

            “Human emotions?” Adam echoed.  His head was spinning.

            “Yes, apparently he has them,” she confirmed. “According to the lore we’ve found, Cassiel does display genuine human emotion, especially for someone called ‘The Righteous Man.’”

            Adam couldn’t keep his jaw from dropping.  In his mind, he could see his angel as he spoke about Dean.  _“I raised him from Hell because he is the Righteous Man, sent to Hell when he didn’t belong there.”_   And now here were those words, “The Righteous Man,” being linked not with an angel, but with an archangel?  An archangel that was apparently known for doing some of the same things he’d already realized Castiel could do simply through a touch!  _Holy fuck!_   “I was not aware of that,” he admitted aloud.  “I mean, I knew Castiel was the name of an angel, but…  Wow, that explains a lot.  I mean, you pretty much just described him to a T!”

            She chuckled.  “Sounds like he lives up to the name!  Of course, there’s more to it than that.  Cassiel is the angel of Saturn and prince of the Seventh Heaven. But I’m afraid he wouldn’t make a good bodyguard.  Despite having human emotions, he primarily watches the affairs of mankind without interfering.  So it’s probably good that you have Castiel rather than Cassiel.  All we could find on ‘Castiel’ was that he’s the angel of Thursday and Saturn, and was likely created because a scribe misspelled Cassiel’s name.”

            “Wouldn’t that be something?” Adam mused.  “An angel created because someone misspelled the name of an archangel!”  He couldn’t wait to bounce _that_ idea off of his angel!

            “In all seriousness, though,” the hostess went on, “who is Castiel?”

            “He’s a hunter, of sorts,” Adam explained. He’d given this answer some thought, knowing the question would come up, and had his answer prepared.  “We weren’t meant to cross paths, but we did. Without giving too much of the investigation away, that unintentional crossing of paths is what eventually led to Blake being taken away.  His abduction was chance, not planned.  And that’s why Castiel’s with me.  He’s serving as my bodyguard while he tracks down the people who took my husband.”

            “I see.  And you believe that he can find Blake?”

            “I have to believe it,” Adam said simply. “He’s the best hope I’ve got!”

            “Now that’s interesting,” the hostess remarked. “You feel more confident in your bodyguard than in the FBI?”

            “Nothing against the FBI, but yes,” Adam agreed.  “Castiel, let’s just say he has access to resources that the police and the FBI don’t.  If he can’t bring Blake back to me, no one can!  And I believe he can.  Castiel will do whatever it takes to get Blake back.  So hang on, Big Country!” he continued, looking at the camera. “We’re coming for you!”

            That satisfied the hostess, who moved into the next commercial break.  But now Adam knew the show had reached the point where he’d be expected to perform. He moved to the stage and stepped up to the microphone, where he greeted his band.

            “We really doing ‘Denim Jacket,’ buddy?” Mickey wanted to know.

            “We agreed on that weeks ago,” Adam insisted. “I’m fine if you are!”

            He got a lot of doubtful looks.  But Adam was determined.  He could do this.  He wrapped his arms around himself, feeling Blake’s familiar flannel under his hands. He could almost imagine Blake was hugging him.  Comforted by that, Adam picked up the microphone and prepared to sing.

            At first, Adam thought it would be alright. He was a professional, after all. And while the song, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t actually about Blake, his husband had certainly done a lot to inspire it.

            But then he got to the chorus, and suddenly, it was harder to keep singing. 

            _“I miss you and that denim jacket, I let you get away!  I let you get away!  Do you still wear that denim jacket?  I let you get away!  I let you get away!  'Cause the color of that blue sky just reminds me of our goodbye!  Do you still wear that denim jacket?”_

_“Now someone else is taking you home, hands on the waist that I used to hold…”_

            Breath control had become a real problem. Somehow, through sheer force of will, Adam managed to keep it together through the song.  But by the final measure, his voice cracked and that was it. Adam hurriedly shoved the microphone back onto the stand and bolted off the stage.  He was barely out of range of the cameras before he fell apart completely. Adam went down on his knees against the wall, pounding the heel of one fist against it and sobbing uncontrollably.

            The hostess quickly went to commercial, and suddenly Adam was surrounded by his band.  Jesse dragged him away from the wall and pulled him against his chest, letting Adam cry into his shoulder.  “It’s ok, buddy,” he soothed.

            “No shame, brother,” Matt added.  “Guys, let’s get him out of here.”

            It was like a six man moving wall.  Maroon 5 rose as a unit, standing around their front man and moving with him to shield him from uncaring eyes.  And a moment later, they were back in Adam’s dressing room.

            A young female assistant had been inside making moon eyes at Castiel before the band entered.  Her mouth fell open into an O of surprise.  Then she quickly fled the room.  Castiel stopped whatever it was he’d been doing and got to his feet, eyes wide with concern.  “What happened?!”

            “He’s fine, Castiel,” PJ called, moving to offer Adam a drink.  “Just the shit finally got to him is all.  Bound to happen.”

            Adam accepted the drink, let himself be pushed onto the couch, and took a long pull on the water bottle.  He’d gotten a bit more control of himself by now, other than the way his hands shook and the occasional hiccupping sob that still escaped his throat.  He didn’t dare look at Castiel, determined to keep his hands to himself.  But his angel’s hand closed on his shoulder, and a wave of relief washed over Adam that made him whimper.  “Shoulder the pain and keep hopelessness away,” he misquoted. “That’s you alright, isn’t it, Castiel?”

            “I’m sorry, I don’t understand that reference?”

            “Never mind.”  He reached back a hand and put it over Castiel’s, squeezing.  “Thank you.” 

            “Angel of serenity, huh, Castiel?” PJ called.

            “Heavenly comforter,” Mickey agreed.  Both of them were eyeing Castiel with odd looks on their faces.

            “Something like that, I suppose?”  Castiel was eyeing them back.  And now Jesse was giving him odd looks, as well.

            Adam glanced at the table and finally registered what was there.  Apparently, the assistant had been in the dressing room because she’d been delivering more candy.  Castiel now had multiple candy dishes, spread out on the table and floor, each filled with Skittles of a single color.  A large piece of poster board was on the table, with a battery-operated glue gun next to it. Skittles had been glued onto the poster board in what appeared to be a random pattern.  Apparently, Castiel was trying his hand as a Skittles artist. “What’s this?” Adam asked.

            “Nothing,” Castiel mumbled.  “Just something I was doing to pass the time.”  He reached for the poster board.  “I’ll throw it away.”

            That brought about a series of protests from the band.  They insisted on packing up Castiel’s sweet, colorful art supplies and having them all taken out to the car.

            Castiel only sighed.  “For the record, they taste nothing like a rainbow.”

            And despite everything, Adam laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun agrees, they don’t taste like a rainbow. Was yelling at Adam to stop being such a needy whiny bitch. Thought the lore was awesome, knew the author did not make it up. Still thinks the band is figuring it out. Wonders what Castiel is doing with the Skittles, and why he’s hiding what he’s doing.


	10. Club Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maroon 5 is determined to show Castiel a good time. Castiel has his reservations. Adam encounters an unfriendly face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags

            Adam pulled Castiel aside and confronted him with what the hostess had told him about Cassiel the first chance he got.  He hadn’t been sure what to expect.  But Castiel only listened politely, nodded, announced that it was “interesting,” and immediately went back out to the band. It was extremely disappointing.

            The band was still insisting on taking Castiel to their favorite club, determined to pickle their bodyguard’s brain cells. They fussed excessively over the angel, carefully fixing his hair and making him change his clothes several times before they went out.  This only confused Castiel, who didn’t understand why he was the only one being asked to change multiple times.  But he bore it patiently, smiling at the band as they argued.  Apparently, he’d gotten past his moodiness from before the interview. He even put up with them mussing his hair again shortly after they’d just finished combing it all down.  Adam took in the sight of his angel, dressed now in a jacket and grey shirt that brought out his eyes, and detected an ulterior motive. Castiel was going to turn heads. Adam suspected that was exactly what the band had in mind.

            Sure enough, after pouring a worrisome amount of alcohol down their reluctant bodyguard’s throat, the band dragged Castiel out onto the dance floor.  One look at the interested expressions on many of the ladies around them when they saw the handsome newcomer confirmed Adam’s suspicions.  Apparently, Castiel was about to be thrown to the lionesses.

            Adam was amused to note that his angel did not appear even slightly drunk.  But he certainly looked confused.  “Why do I have to dance?” Castiel complained.  “I’ve never danced before.  I’m certain that I’m doing it wrong.”

            “Just loosen up and relax!”

            “That seems unlikely.  I feel silly!”

            “Dude, just bust a move!”

            “I don’t understand.  Why would breaking something be desirable?”

            “C’mon, Castiel, shake that fine ass!”

            “Is that a precursor to breaking something?”

            “C’mon, man!  How you gonna get laid if you can’t show these lovely ladies how well you can move? Cut a foot loose!”

            “There seems to be a great deal of personal injury involved in your plan.”

            “Ok, seriously, dude!  Stop being so damned uptight.  The Love Doctor is here to teach you how this is done!”

            “Well, at least there’s a doctor involved.  With this much injury, that’s probably for the best.”

            Adam chuckled, shook his head, and headed for the bathroom.

            He finished his business and was washing his hands when he noticed the man in the mirror, standing way too close to him. Adam frowned at the man’s reflection. “Can I help you?” he asked.

            “You’re putting my daughter at risk!”

            Adam blinked.  “Excuse me?”

            “You had to throw a fit about cross-dressing queers being allowed in women’s bathrooms!  You think I want that shit around my daughter?!”

            Adam gripped the edge of the sink, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  He let it out slowly, forcing himself to stay calm.  This was hardly the first time some asshole had been a dick to him about something like this.  Best thing to do was walk away.

            Adam was doing exactly that when the bigot grabbed his arm and jerked him back, hard enough to send Adam stumbling back into the rear wall.  He blinked in surprise.  Then he yelped when the asshole shoved him once more, sending him back into the wall again.  “I’m talking to you, you little homo!  Wasn’t good enough for you to spit in the face of marriage, so now you gotta try to fuck with my daughter, too?!”

            “Listen, asshole, you need to not fucking touch me again!”

            “Or what?” the man challenged, shoving him yet again.  “You gonna get an army of bull dykes to come in here and kick my ass?  Or are you just gonna threaten to sue me?  Fucking little Jew faggot!”

            Adam decided he’d had just about enough.  He shoved the man back.  “Get the fuck away from me!”

            Adam saw the punch coming from a mile away. He quickly ducked under it and dove at the man.  He knew enough about bigots to know that if he gave this asshole the fight he clearly wanted, it would more than likely end up somehow turned against him.  But right now, Adam simply didn’t give a shit.  His shoulder caught the bigot in the gut, knocking him back into the sink.  The man’s kidney slammed into the edge of the sink, making him yelp.  But the guy recovered fast, moving behind Adam and grabbing him in a headlock.

            Adam’s blood was boiling.  Some dry, clear part of his mind told him he should call security or Castiel, or at least try to knock the guy back enough that he could get away.  But that part was overridden by the much larger, considerably louder part that was itching for a good fight.  For the first time, Adam had someone he could lash out at, someone to hurt that absolutely had it coming.  And after all that had happened, he welcomed that.  Adam clutched at the man’s arm, pulling back and ducking his chin to keep from being choked.  Then he drove his other elbow into his attacker’s ribs once, twice, a third time.

            Each time, the man grunted in pain.  But the bastard was tough.  He was throwing Adam around hard, trying to get his arm under Adam’s chin and tighten the hold around his neck.  Adam had no intention of letting that happen.  He shoved himself backwards, legs driving them both back as hard as he could until his attacker’s back slammed into the wall. At the same time, Adam jerked hard on the arm around his neck.  It worked. The man lost his grip and suddenly Adam was free and turning to face him.

            Adam could have run out.  He knew running out was the best option.  He should get back out into the club, get to his friends, get some help.  This asshole would get arrested so fast his head would spin.  That was the right thing to do.

            Fuck that.  This son of a bitch was going down.

            Adam charged the man, fists flying.  The two pommeled each other.  Their bodies struck the wall, the sink, the side of the stalls. They grappled with each other and toppled to the floor, rolling into one of the stalls.

            They came to a crashing halt against the base of the toilet in the stall on the filthy floor.  Adam ended up on his back with the asshole on top of him, both of them still pounding away at each other.  Adam got a grip on the lapels of the man’s jacket and yanked down hard. The man’s face came down on the seat of the toilet.  There was a satisfying spray of blood and a shocked cry of pain.  But then a pair of hands closed around Adam’s throat and clamped down tight.

            Suddenly, Adam couldn’t breathe.  He clawed at the hands.  The man outweighed him by about twenty pounds.  Adam’s legs were caught under the partition separating the stalls. A snarling, bloody face hovered inches above his own, panting breaths that smelled like 20 proof into his face, seeming to mock Adam as he struggled for air.  “I’ll kill you,” the man wheezed.  “You’re gonna die, you fucking homo!”

            The world was starting to turn grey.  Adam struggled frantically.  _Castiel!_

****

            Castiel wondered just how much his new charges expected him to drink tonight?  They were shoving yet another highly alcoholic beverage into his hand, insisting he drink it.  As far as they knew, he was human, so this made little sense.  He was their bodyguard.  How could he guard their bodies if he was drunk?  Fortunately, Castiel knew it would likely take quite a bit more before he started feeling the effects of the drinks.  The last time he’d gotten drunk, it had taken the contents of an entire liquor store.  But for reasons he still didn’t understand, his Grace had been slowly, steadily getting stronger since he’d been here.  It was puzzling, and very troubling.  Now, even if he did succeed in becoming drunk, he doubted he’d stay that way long.  But of course he couldn’t explain that to Maroon 5.  Any time he tried to leave the dance floor, someone gave him another drink, insisted he drink it, and then steered him right back onto the floor once more.

            Then there were the women.

            Castiel had quickly learned that his vessel was considered attractive by most women.  Apparently, the women in this club were no exception.  Over and over again, another random female would throw her arms around his neck and start dancing with him.  He’d gotten the hang of dancing.  It might have even been somewhat enjoyable if he’d been left to simply move to the music as he’d been instructed.  But the women kept coming, refusing to leave him alone.  He seemed to be surrounded.  They held him close, pressed their bodies against him, sometimes two at a time and once even three, all laughing and smiling and batting their eyes, trying to get his attention.  They complimented his eyes, his looks, his body.  They giggled and told him to relax.  They clung to his neck, his arms, his waist.  They stroked his cheeks and ran their fingers through his hair.  And Castiel had no idea what to do.  He sent pleading looks to the band, and, when that was ignored, asked them for assistance.  And the band, rather than helping him, simply laughed.  If anything, they appeared to be actively encouraging this behavior among the females, even pointing him out to women who hadn’t yet noticed him.  Even Adam, who surely understood just how inappropriate this all was, was laughing and grinning at him, doing nothing at all to assist.

            Castiel considered his tactical options.  There was no direct threat, meaning he couldn’t justify an offensive stance.  The women weren’t attacking him, but at the same time he was definitely under attack. He couldn’t make them understand that their advances weren’t welcomed, meaning negotiation was out.  Every time he got away from one, another took hold of him, making withdrawal impossible.  He found himself wandering around the dance floor, herded this way and that by hopeful females which meant a full retreat would be difficult, as well.  And meanwhile, there appeared to be some brewing rivalry among the women themselves.  It was starting to become a problem, especially when hostile looks flew when two different women tried to dance with him at the same time and were apparently unwilling to share.

            Of course, Castiel knew exactly where the problem was – Maroon 5.  Not only were they encouraging the women, but they were refusing to listen to Castiel and trying their hardest to impair his senses.  The band was the real source of his problems.  That was where he needed to focus his efforts.

            But before he could decide on how to approach them, the band, declaring that Castiel was their responsibility, announced that they were parceling him out.  The end result was that they put all of Castiel’s prospective dance partners into a queue and were timing each dance.  Castiel had not been consulted in this.  He’d dance with one woman for a bit, and then another would take her place. And every time Castiel protested or indicated he would rather just dance alone or, better yet, sit at a table and simply watch, someone shoved yet another highly alcoholic beverage into his hand that they then insisted he drink.  By now, realizing that everything they’d already given him had produced no noticeable results, the band resorted to handing him two drinks at once and then loudly chanting “Drink!  Drink! Drink!” until he’d finished them both. Impossible.  Castiel gave up protesting.  He resigned himself to dance after dance.  Surely, the interested women would soon be satisfied once he’d danced with them all and leave him alone.  Based on the queue that had formed, this was going to take some time.

            Then he watched in dismay as his latest partner left him when the next woman stepped up to replace her, only to walk back to the end of the line and await her next turn.  And he realized that the majority of the women in the line, including his current partner, had already had one or even two dances with him already.  At this rate, he could be here all night.  No, this would not do.  “Enough!  Let me go,” he called, carefully pulling his latest partner’s arms off of his neck.  “What are you doing?  You already danced with me!”

            “And we had a good time, didn’t we, angel eyes?” The woman was obviously under the influence.  “Why don’t you come with me, let momma show you an even better time?”

            “What do you mean?”

            In answer, she dropped her hand and squeezed him through the front of his pants.  The band cheered and wolf whistled in approval.

            Oh.  She wanted him to play pizza man. Suddenly, Castiel understood what the by now very intoxicated band meant by getting him “laid.”  He quickly distanced himself from the disappointed woman, grabbed James when he started running for more drinks, and gathered the band.  It was time to negotiate a cease fire.  “Gentlemen?” he began.  “I’m afraid that what you’re doing here tonight is extremely counterproductive to the job you’ve given me.  Even if I could adequately guard your bodies while drunk, I certainly couldn’t do it if I were engaged in sexual intercourse!”

            That got roaring laughter from the band.  “Castiel, look around you, man,” Jesse declared. “See all the guys in the black shirts that say ‘security?’  We called ahead, asked them to boost the security in here, specifically so you could relax!”

            “Yeah, you’re not on the job in here, buddy!” Sam agreed.  “That means you’re free to enjoy the amenities of the club!”

            “I don’t understand,” Castiel complained. “You’re saying that I’m not supposed to be guarding your bodies?”

            “We got enough people guarding our bodies, buddy.”

            “Yeah, it’s your body we’re interested in here!”

            “How the hell are you not shitfaced drunk?”

            “You’ve been two-fisting for the past twenty minutes, and you’re not even slurring!”

            “Seriously, dude, that last drink was so strong you could drive a car on it!  Your ass should have been on the floor!”

            “Guy’s liver is as tough as he is!”

            “I believe I told you when this started that it’s not easy to get me drunk,” Castiel explained patiently.  “But it seems you just took it as a challenge.”

            “You’re damned right it’s a challenge!”

            “Dude, I swear you’re gonna crawl out of here!”

            “I will start bringing you entire bottles if I have to!”

            “Whatever it takes to loosen you up!”

            “Come on, buddy, there’s a whole bunch of lovely ladies here who still want to dance with you.  You’ve got your pick!”

            “Don’t you like girls, Castiel?”

            “We can start rounding you up some pretty boys if that’s your preference?”

            “Hell, there’s two right over there who’ve had their eyes on you!”

            “Hang on, let me bring ‘em over!”

            “That isn’t necessary!  I don’t have a preference,” Castiel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “I’m just not interested!  What you’re trying to do here has already been tried, but it’s not necessary.  You should know that I am not a virgin.  So there really is no need for you to…”

            _Castiel!_

            The call went through him like an electric shock. Adam!  To his horror, Castiel realized that he’d lost track of Adam. He looked frantically around, saw no sign of his friend.  How could he have been so careless?  He’d known that Adam was at risk, and yet somehow, he’d failed to keep that firmly in mind.  He’d let himself become distracted, and now Adam was in trouble!

            Castiel was instantly on the move, running away from the band and plowing through startled patrons, heading towards Adam’s call. He wasted precious moments searching for his friend, using his Grace to pinpoint Adam’s location.  There.  Ignoring the confused shouts of the band behind him, he bowled through the last few people in his way, tossed a table and two chairs aside, and shoved his way past one of the oblivious security workers into the men’s room door.  The sound of a fist repeatedly striking flesh was coming from the farthest stall.  He pushed open the door to the stall, grabbed the figure that was busy pummeling the bleeding man on the floor, and dragged him off.  “Stop!” he yelled.  “You’re going to seriously injure him!”

            “So fucking what?!” Adam roared.  He strained to reach the groaning, bloody man on the floor. “Bastard attacked me, then he had me down and was choking me!  If I hadn’t shoved my thumb into his eye, he’d have killed me!  He fucking told me he was going to!”

            Castiel caught Adam around the middle, lifting him with one arm.  Then he carried him away from the man on the floor.  Adam was squirming when Castiel put him down, and Castiel gave him a shake. “Hold still.  Let me see.”

            Adam stilled, panting.  Castiel examined the bruising on Adam’s face.  He tipped Adam’s chin up and frowned at the marks on the singer’s throat.  Then he moved back to the stall, where he reached down and grabbed the arm of the battered man Adam had just been pounding on.  He dragged the man to his feet and then gave him a little push, causing the man to stumble back.  “Is this true?” Castiel demanded, making sure to keep himself between the man and Adam. “Did you attack Adam, choke him, threaten to kill him?”

            The man spat a wad of bloody fluid that Castiel just managed to dodge.  “Fuck you, you fucking hellbound homo!”

            Adam immediately started swearing and started towards the man again.  Castiel’s frown deepened as he raised an arm and held Adam back.  “I don’t understand where your hate is coming from.  Why did you attack Adam?”

            “Because he’s a fucking faggot!” the man informed him. “He and the rest of their kind are trying to ruin this country, bring an end to decency!  Someone’s gotta stand up for what’s right!”

            “Another fucking homophobe,” Adam growled, seeing Castiel’s confused look.  “He came in here spouting off about transgender women using the same bathroom as his daughter, but mostly he decided to beat on me for the crime of loving my husband!  I handled it. Let go of me, Castiel.  I’m done.”

            Castiel let Adam go, but his attention was fixed on the other man.  “I still don’t understand.  You attacked Adam because he loves his husband?”

            “Damned right!”

            “That’s stupid!” Castiel exclaimed.  “I don’t understand this at all!  Loving someone he’s legally married to couldn’t possibly be any sort of threat to this country or decency.  Why is it of any concern or even interest to you?”

            “Fucking faggot beat the shit out of me!” the man yelled, indicating his injuries.  Then he pointed an accusing finger at Adam.  “You’re doing down, Levine!  Look at what you did to me!  I’m gonna sue you!  I’m gonna have you arrested!”

            “Hey asshole, you want to go another round?!” Adam called, stalking forward.

            Castiel stopped him with a warning hand. “Enough.” 

            “Son of a bitch is gonna call the cops,” Adam grumbled.  “It’s going to be his word against mine as to what happened in here, but it won’t matter. The fucking tabloids are gonna be all over this!  Not like I can claim I didn’t beat the shit out of him, not when he’s looking like that! Now I just wish I’d kicked his ass more!”

            Castiel sighed.  He pushed the battered man against the wall and then quickly healed him. “Now you have no evidence of a crime. You have nothing to substantiate anything you may say about what happened here.  And no one will believe your claims.  Now get out!”

            He released the man, who blinked at him. The man was obviously intoxicated. His bleary eyes shifted, and then settled on Adam.  “We’re not through, Levine!” he warned.  “You got in a cheap shot, but next time...!”

            Adam punched him in the face.  There was a loud crack as the man’s nose broke once more. He howled in pain, stumbling back.

            Castiel healed the man again.  “I would like to point out that this cycle can continue for as long as you wish.  Or you can leave.  Now.”

            This time, the man went running out, shoving past the man in the doorway.

            Castiel only had eyes for his friend.  He reached for Adam, but Adam ducked away.  “Don’t, buddy.  Don’t heal me.  Just leave it.  I want people to see what he did to me!”

            “As you wish.  Can we leave now?  I believe I’ve had quite enough of this club scene.”

            Adam nodded.

            Then they both turned and saw the pale face of Matt Flynn, who was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, staring at Castiel. Adam froze, grabbing Castiel’s arm, and tried to force a smile at his drummer.  “Matt?  Hey there! Um, how long have you been standing there, buddy?”

            Matt was visibly drunk, still carrying a bottle in one hand.  But his eyes were wide, and locked on Castiel.  He leaned in the doorway and shook his head.  “Castiel?” he managed.  “What the fuck are you, man?!”

            “I mean you no harm,” Castiel assured.  “I’m...”

            “Okay,” Adam called loudly, stepping in front of Castiel.  “Matt, you’ve had way too much to drink tonight!  Whatever you thought you just saw...?”

            Matt raised a hand.  “I’m shitface drunk, Adam.  I’ll admit that.  But I’m not blind or stupid, ok?!  I know what I saw!  Castiel just fucking healed that guy with a touch!  I _saw_ it!”  His breathing was fast now, his eyes wide and moving between Adam and Castiel.  “Adam, what the actual fuck is going on?!”

            “It’s kind of a long story,” Adam called, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Matt, get the guys and let’s just all head back to my place, ok?  I promise I’ll tell you everything I know.  Come on, Castiel.  Let’s get home.”

            Castiel followed Adam to the door.  But as he neared Matt, the man who moments ago had been laughing and drinking with him flinched back, backing up against the walls as if desperate to keep as far away from him as possible.  Then, when Castiel stopped, Matt went running out the door.

            That was a reaction that Castiel had seen too many times in the course of his long existence.  He lowered his head and glumly followed Adam.  Things had just become a lot more difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says the woman who groped Castiel was “gonna save his Grace.” Knew Adam made a mistake by going into the bathroom alone. Liked what Castiel did and said, knew Castiel was going to heal the guy so Adam wouldn’t get in trouble. Thought that stung when Matt was pulling away from him. “Don’t be a dick, Matt.”


	11. Angel of the Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam finally tells his band the truth and faces his own guilty conscience. Maroon 5 is divided in what they believe. PJ makes a discovery that he insists Adam needs to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that the archive has been especially problematic lately. If you're a subscriber and not getting your e-mails for new chapters, you're not alone! As I suspected it would, real life is causing issues, so I'm afraid daily updates are impossible. I'll try to post as frequently as I can. Just check back periodically!
> 
> Music I used when I wrote this is "Alien Angel" by 3. Sorry, couldn't find a lyrics video  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhy5SnHl28s

            It was, without a doubt, the longest, most awkward ride home Adam had ever endured with his band.  Matt had run ahead and whispered to the other five, who had listened to whatever he’d told them and then started staring hard at Castiel. And Castiel clearly was uncomfortable now.  His angel kept his gaze generally down.  He stayed close to Adam, keeping to his duties as bodyguard.  But the entire dynamic of the group had changed.  They’d moved past Castiel and into the car, either pointedly not looking at him or outright staring.  Both reactions seemed to push the angel deeper and deeper into himself.  Castiel had been down before, but now he was far worse.  By the time they were all in the car and on the road, Castiel had gone completely defensive.  His arms were folded tightly across his chest.  The blue eyes stared pointedly out the window at the night, steadfastly ignoring everyone.

            Adam didn’t know what to do.  His angel was in a bad way, but at the same time, Maroon 5 was obviously freaked.  He wanted to try comfort Castiel, just as his angel had comforted him time and time again. But he wasn’t sure how, or if his angel would welcome it.  And what if it made his band flip out even more? 

            For their part, Adam’s band mates were displaying a myriad of emotions.  PJ had the cross amulet he’d been wearing in his hands.  His eyes were closed, his lips moving in silent prayer.  Matt was curled into a ball, his feet up on the seat, as far away from Castiel as the car would allow even as he stared in awe at the angel.  James was looking from face to face among his band mates, an expression of puzzlement on his face.  Mickey was silently rocking in his seat.  Jesse was staring hard at Castiel.  His hands were clutching at the legs of his jeans, pulling and releasing the fabric rhythmically.  And Sam simply looked disgusted.  He stared moodily out the window, unconsciously mirroring Castiel’s position. And that was how it was for the entire trip.  Not one person spoke a single word.

            The band had already arranged to stay with Adam overnight.  Tomorrow, they’d board their bus for the long drive to their next engagement.  But now, Adam was giving serious thought to cancelling. Castiel once again kept to his duties as the band’s bodyguard, making sure everyone got into the house safely. But once he’d closed the door behind them, he simply kept going, pushing past Adam and heading up the stairs.

            Adam chased after him and caught his arm. “Castiel!” he called.

            Castiel kept moving.  “Get off of me.”

            Adam held on and dug in his heels.  “Come on, buddy, stop and talk to me!”

            “Let go of me, Adam!” Castiel snapped, not slowing his quick pace as he twisted free from Adam’s grip.  “Why must you constantly cling to me?!  Enough!  Leave me alone!”

            Adam stopped, fists clenched as he stared after him. “Castiel!”

            His angel didn’t respond.  He simply went up the stairs and through the door of the guest room he’d chosen for himself.  It slammed shut behind him with a note of finality that seemed to echo through the house.

            Adam winced.  Then he sighed and shook his head.  Clearly, his angel needed some time alone.  Alright.  In that case, Adam decided, he needed to deal with his band.  He sighed, rubbed at his face, and glanced down at himself.  Blake’s shirt had gotten torn in his fight at the club. That hurt more than it should have. Troubled, Adam quickly ducked into his room, reverently folded the shirt and set it aside.  He grabbed another at random and threw it on.  Then he went downstairs to find his band.

            He found all six of them still in the entry room, gathered into a tight group, speaking amongst themselves in hushed voices. Adam cleared his throat to announce his presence.  “Guys? We obviously need to talk.  Can you come into the living room?”

            Uneasy glances were exchanged among the band. Then as a unit they started moving, following their front man back into the living room.

            Adam waited until everyone seemed settled, standing and facing them.  “Alright,” he called.  “I know you’ve all got a lot of questions.  So, let’s clear the air.  What Matt saw tonight…”

            “I know what I saw tonight!” Matt interrupted. “I saw Castiel heal a man with a touch!”

            “No man can do that,” PJ announced.  “No mortal man, anyway!”

            Adam sighed.  “You’re right,” he admitted.  “Castiel isn’t a man.  He’s...” He paused, thinking back to how Castiel had announced what he was.  “He’s an angel of the Lord.”

            Something like a sigh swept through the band.

            “He’s the angel Cassiel, isn’t he?” Mickey asked. “It’s just like that lady said!  It all goes back to the shit that’s been going on with those hate groups, Adam.  You’re being unjustly persecuted, and Cassiel’s been sent here to protect you!”

            “He’s not Cassiel, he’s…”  Adam shook his head.  “I don’t know!  Maybe he is, but he didn’t come here to protect me from unjust persecution, ok? And that name didn’t seem to mean anything to him when I mentioned it!”

            “So, he is an angel, an actual angel?”  PJ looked awed.  “I _knew_ it!”

            “Yeah, I didn’t really believe it, but I did kind of think that maybe…  Yeah,” Jesse agreed.  “Yeah, I do believe it.  You guys, all the crazy shit he’s done?  It all makes sense now!  He’s really an angel in human form, sent by God to protect us!”

            “I,” James declared, “have no idea what the fuck is going on.”

            “Me either, buddy,” Sam agreed.  “Castiel suddenly takes off in mid-sentence, not a word, no explanation.  We’d been shoving drinks down his throat all night, and he’d been two-fisting them at the end, so we figure, he’s about to toss his cookies, right?  Hell, we were all laughing about it!  But Matt, he’s all, ‘I don’t think he’s used to drinking, I should make sure he’s ok.’  So Matt follows after him, which was stupid because we knew you were in there, Adam, but who cares, right?  And the next thing we know, Matt comes running back, talking about divine healing and laying on hands!  And now Adam’s here talking about how our bodyguard’s a fucking guardian angel of the Lord, we’ve all had way too much to drink, and I feel like I just flew over the cuckoo’s nest!”

            “He healed that asshole with a touch!” Matt insisted.  “I saw it! Adam decked the fucker and broke his nose, and then Castiel was like, one touch, and instantly healed!  And Adam knew he could do it, too, because Castiel was going to heal Adam and Adam told him not to.  You’re a fucking idiot for that, by the way, Adam, but it works out now!  Bring Castiel in here and let him heal you in front of these guys!  Show them!”

            “Dammit, Matt, I’m not going to bring him down here to do party tricks!” Adam yelled.

            “That’s how he protected you at the concert,” Mickey realized.  The bassist was pacing rapidly around the room, circling the others and waving his hands. Behind his glasses, his eyes were huge. “He’s fucking magic, man!  He touched me at that restaurant, and bam, it was like this huge feeling of peace just came over me, you know?

            “I do know,” PJ intoned.  “I was there!  I felt it, too!  We all did!”

            “Adam, what the hell is going on?” Sam wanted to know. “Ok, I’ll admit I felt something pretty weird back at that restaurant, too.  But come on!  You guys are talking crazy here!”

            “You honestly believe this, don’t you?” James wondered.  “You really think Castiel’s an angel, like, an actual angel with wings and a harp and halo and shit?  Then bring his ass out here and let’s see!”

            “Once again, he is not a fucking party trick!” Adam spat.  “Everyone just sit the fuck down, shut the hell up, and let me explain, would you?!”

            “Adam, where is he now?” Matt wanted to know. He looked around.  “Where’s our angel?  I want to see him!”

            “I agree,” Jesse said.  “Where’s our angel, Adam?  Party tricks aside, he should be out here for this conversation!”

            “On that, we agree,” Sam said.  “Where is Castiel, Adam?”

            “I don’t know, he wandered off somewhere upstairs when we all came in,” Adam explained, straining to keep patient.  “I think he’s upset.  He’s kind of been upset all day.”

            “Upset?”  PJ frowned. “He’s an angel of serenity, a blessed provider of God’s good grace, able to provide comfort with a single touch! What could upset him?”

            “I don’t know!” Adam confessed.  “He wouldn’t tell me.”  He raised his voice, yelling up the stairs.  “Castiel!  Would you come down here, please?”

            “Seriously?” Mickey exclaimed.  “You’re just going to bellow his name and expect an _angel_ to come at your beck and call?  That’s our guardian angel, asshole, not a fucking dog!”

            “He’s right, Adam.”  PJ’s frown had deepened.  “Don’t just yell for our angel!  He’s a holy messenger of God, and you need to treat him with the respect he deserves!”

            “Holy fuck, he is _not_ an actual angel!” James yelled.  “What the hell was in your drinks at that club?!”

            “Guys, everyone just calm down!” Sam ordered. “There are perfectly logical explanations for everything that’s happened, alright?”

            “No there aren’t!” Matt insisted.  “There is no logical explanation for what Castiel did at that club tonight, Sam!  Adam punched that asshole in the nose and I heard it break, ok?  It was bloody, it was discolored, and it was already starting to swell.  Then Castiel touched the guy just like this, just a touch, and it was like Adam never hit the bastard!”

            “Miraculous,” PJ breathed.

            “Yeah!”  Jesse looked dazed.  “You can’t explain that one away, Sam.  That shit’s real!  A true miracle!”

            “We’ve got an angel, an actual angel, right here in this house?!”  Mickey’s eyes were wild.  “It’s a sign! We gotta change our ways, guys! No more clubbing, no more booze and drugs and women…”

            “Castiel doesn’t give a shit about any of that!” Adam insisted.  “Mickey, we just came from a club where we were all trying to get him drunk and laid! Did he say anything then about changing our wicked ways?!”

            Looks of horror appeared among his bandmates. Several of them immediately lowered their heads and appeared to be praying.  “Doomed,” Mickey moaned.  “We’re doomed!”

            “Seriously, guys, do you even hear yourselves right now?” Sam exclaimed.  “Next you’re going to expect him to come back down those stairs wearing a white robe and carrying stone tablets!”

            “Yeah, Sam’s right,” James agreed.  “We have officially gone off the deep end here, guys.”

            “No, we haven’t!” Jesse insisted.  “I’m sorry, but I believe it.  Castiel’s an angel!  He is!  Our fucking _bodyguard_ is really our guardian angel!”

            “Our true guardian angel, sent from above to protect us,” PJ declared.  “Praise God!”

            “Dude, you sound like a televangelist!” Sam complained.

            PJ straightened.  “My father was a minister.  I know he was disappointed that I didn’t follow in his footsteps. Maybe this is a sign?  It’s not too late to go back!”

            “Ask Castiel,” Mickey urged.  “Where’s our angel?  He’d know!”

            “No, he wouldn’t!” Adam argued.  “Castiel says he’s a fallen angel, that he’s not really associated with Heaven anymore.  And he’s certainly not connected with Heaven here!”

            “What’s that mean?” Jesse wanted to know.  “I want to talk to him!  Where’s our angel, Adam?  Where is he?!”

            “I want to see our angel, too!” Matt argued. “I need to ask his forgiveness for the way I acted at the club and on the ride here.  I was freaked out, man!”  Matt was wild-eyed.  “I need to see him, Adam!  Why ain’t he coming down?”

            “How should I know?  Like Mickey said, I don’t exactly have him at my beck and call!” He leaned back and bellowed towards the stairs.  “ _Castiel!_   Come on, buddy, would you please come back down here?  The guys really want to talk to you!”

            But even though Adam got sour looks for once again yelling for their angel, Castiel didn’t appear.  Meanwhile, the band continued to yell and argue among themselves, James and Sam insisting that Castiel couldn’t possibly be an angel, and the rest of the band insisting just as hard that he was.  Everyone was slurring, and tempers were starting to rise. Finally, Adam couldn’t take it anymore. He jumped up onto the table.  _“I just beat the fuck out of a guy tonight, and I swear, if you don’t all sit down and shut up, I’ll kick all your asses!”_ he thundered.

            Silence.  The band was looking at him with wide, unblinking eyes.  Even Mickey had quickly taken a seat.  All six had given Adam their full attention.

            Satisfied, Adam nodded and climbed off of the table. He pulled up the ottoman, perched on it, and faced his friends.  Then he began to talk.  “It all started the night Blake disappeared.  And I do mean he disappeared!  He wasn’t kidnapped, not in the traditional sense, but I’m ahead of myself anyway.  I was driving home that night when I saw a shooting star land near where I was driving and went to check it out.  All I wanted was to get a piece of meteorite. But instead of a meteorite, the crater had a man in it.  Castiel. And he was hurt, hurt bad.”

            His friends listened as Adam finally told the story of what had really happened the night Blake disappeared for the first time. He spared no detail, not even the fact that he’d actually stabbed Castiel more than once with his own silvery dagger. It felt incredibly good to finally tell the truth.  No one else said a word.  They simply listened with somber faces.  Adam told them everything he knew.  He explained where Castiel had actually come from.  Then he outlined Castiel’s plan to get Blake back, how he was relying on Dean to cast the second half of the spell and the need to communicate with the other world.

            He also explained what it would cost the angel to put his plan into effect.  “Castiel wants to do this as some kind of penance,” he told them.  “And some of the things he’s told me that he’s done in his own world?  I mean, holy fuck, Castiel and those brothers he runs with have literally saved the world multiple times!  But at the same time, they’ve come so close so many times to destroying the whole kit and caboodle through their own choices and mistakes that quite frankly, I’m really fucking glad they’re over there and not here!  But now _Blake_ is over there!”  Adam’s breathing was coming fast, his nails digging into his palms.  “My Big Country, trapped in that nightmare world!  And God help me, guys.  God help me, I have to get him back!  And I’ll let Castiel sacrifice his own ticket home to do it.”  He shook his head.  “Castiel sees those brothers as heroes, and maybe they are.  They’d probably find some way to save Blake without trapping Castiel over here.  But me? I’m just a man, a man who desperately wants to save his husband!  And unless another solution presents itself, I’ll do it!  And I know, ok?  I know Castiel saved my life, probably kept me from killing someone tonight, and has been the only thing that’s kept me on my feet since I lost Blake.  But I need Blake, and it just doesn’t matter, ok?” Adam’s voice was a whisper now. “I’m so fucking ashamed of myself, guys. I’ve been telling myself that Castiel would be better off staying with me anyway, that he’s not really losing anything from not going home.  But it doesn’t matter!  I know it’s wrong to let him do this.  And I’ll still stand back and happily let Castiel throw away his chance to get back home if it means I get Blake back!  I don’t know how I’d look Blake in the eye and tell him what I’d done, what I let Castiel do, to get him home.  But I’d still do it.  Because when it’s all said and done?  For me, Blake is the one thing, the only thing, that matters!”

            Silence fell.  Adam sat with his head bowed, the full scope of his shame and self-disgust laid bare before his friends.  It was a bit of horrible truth that he’d known for some time, but only now really expressed.  Adam had no doubt that he’d let an angel, a _friend,_ sacrifice himself if it meant Blake could come safely back home.  Did Castiel know?  Probably.  What difference did it make?  Castiel was willing.  That was the important thing, wasn’t it?

            Jesse stirred.  He got up, turned away from Adam, and started towards the kitchen, tapping Mickey’s shoulder to signal the other man to follow him as he went.  Adam watched them go without really looking up. James soon followed, with Matt close behind.  Now it was just Sam and PJ, still staring silently at Adam.

            “You don’t have to stay,” Adam mumbled.  “I get it, believe me.  Honestly, I’m so disgusted and sickened with myself, I’d leave too, if I could.”

            “Where is Castiel?” PJ asked quietly.

            Adam shrugged.  “Like I said, he’s been moody all day.  Tonight, Matt’s reaction when he saw Castiel heal that man?  It just made it worse.  He wandered off somewhere upstairs.  I don’t know why he’s not answering me.”

            PJ nodded and rose.  “If our angel’s upset, he shouldn’t be alone.  I’m going to go find him.”

            “Yeah.”  Adam’s eyes turned to Sam as PJ headed out.  “You don’t have to stay either, Sam.  Go.”

            “Don’t fucking tell me what to do, ok, Adam?” Sam snapped. 

            Adam squeeze his eyes shut.  “Let me have it, Sam.  Whatever’s on your mind.”

            “It’s like this,” Sam began.  “You survived something terrible, and lost your husband because of it.  But this story you’ve told us, angels and magic and alternate worlds?  Come on, man!  That’s crazy!  From the sound of things, Castiel believes everything he’s told you.  But part of you has to know it’s crazy!”

            Adam gave a dry chuckle.  “You don’t believe me.”

            “I believe that something happened, and that you can’t deal with it,” Sam sighed.  “I really think you snapped, buddy.  And the six of us?  We spend more time with your sorry tattooed ass than anyone outside of Blake!  It stands to reason that we’d be subject to a certain amount of group hysteria, especially as wasted as we all are tonight!” He shook his head, looking disgusted. “Mickey doesn’t surprise me, but not much about him does since that cocaine bust.  But I expected Matt to be a little more balanced, being a family man! Hell, I think even James is starting to believe it a little now!  But it’s not real, Adam.  It’s just not!”

            “So, what, you think I’m delusional?”

            Sam sighed.  “Adam, I’m not trying to be a dick here, but let’s face some facts. You’re a musical genius, but you’re not exactly topping the IQ charts, ok, buddy?  I mean, you’re a college drop-out!  So are Jesse and Matt!  PJ’s got a marketing degree, but with his religious background, I can see easily why he started thinking what he did.”

            “Yeah, Sam, we all know you’re the smart one in the band, ok?” Adam grumbled.  “And you know what else I know?  That I honestly do not give a shit what you do or do not believe.  Trust me, Castiel can be damned convincing!  Stick around long enough to really talk with him, and then come to me about group hysteria!  But it doesn’t matter.”  He straightened.  “You know what, Sam?  I’ve got an idea.  You’re the brains of this operation, the guy who does all our effects and stuff, and you’re good with computers!  You want to help me find out what really happened?  Go talk to Castiel about those websites he found.  See if you can maybe get anywhere with finding the hunters in this world!”

            Sam ground his teeth.  “You realize the reason he can’t find monster hunters in this world is because neither they nor monsters exist?”

            “Humor the madman, then!”  He looked up, seeing PJ come into the room.  “PJ, did you find Castiel?  We need to get him and Sam here together so they can…”  He trailed off, noting PJ’s expression.  “PJ, you ok, man?”

            “No,” PJ announced.  “No Adam, I am not.”

            Adam eyed the keyboardist, taking in the other man’s narrowed eyes.  His pinched lips.  The darkening of the skin on his cheeks.  The hard set of his shoulders and the way he clenched his fists at his side.  Adam shifted, suddenly alarmed.  “What is it?” he asked cautiously.

            PJ pointed to the stairs.  “The guest room right across the hall from yours, Adam. Castiel is in there.  And you need to get up off of your ass and go see him!”

            Adam had never heard PJ speak in the tone he was using now.  He immediately decided he’d prefer not to hear it again.  He liked the way PJ’s eyes glistened and his voice trembled even less.  “What’s wrong?” he called, getting quickly to his feet.

            PJ again pointed at the stairs.  “Adam, I am not a violent man.  But if you don’t get up those stairs in the next five minutes and see what he’s done, I swear to Heaven above that I will fucking _bounce_ you up there!  Go and see our angel, Adam!  Now!”

            Adam’s eyes went very wide.  He bolted up the stairs.  “Castiel?” he called.

            No answer.

            Heart pounding in trepidation, Adam approached the guest bedroom door.  He could hear something, a shifting sound like pieces of plastic rattling together. He could smell something, too.  He sniffed, puzzled.  Hot glue?  What was his angel doing behind that door?  Adam gently knocked.  “Castiel? Hey buddy, can I come in?”

            No answer.

            Alright then.  Adam braced himself, turned the knob, and opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks Castiel is playing with the Skittles again. Thinks the hunters in this world are just too organized and that’s why they are so hard to find. Thinks the reason that the world hasn’t nearly ended over and over is because there are no Winchesters in this world. Says that if Crowley had any inkling they were here, he wouldn’t have wanted to come over because they would fuck him up even accidentally. Wonders why Adam was bracing, what’s he worried about?
> 
> Yes, I've ended in yet another cliffhanger, and I'm afraid I have to ask for patience the next few days before I can update again. Please bear with me, and thank you so much for sticking with me so far!


	12. Skittles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam finally understands why his angel has been acting the way he has, and comes to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original artwork by Team ALANXOXO!
> 
> Song here is "Just To Hold You Once Again" by Mariah Carey  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=du7mQd77nss

            Castiel was seated on the bed in front of a folding card table, surrounded by the bowls of Skittles the band had brought back for him from the interview.  His glue gun was in one hand, a Skittle in the other.  As Adam peeked in, Castiel carefully applied a small amount of hot glue to the candy.  Then he pressed it to the poster board.  The poster board was now liberally covered with the colorful candies in set patterns, like colors grouping together into an overall design known only to the angelic artist.  Judging by the sheer volume of glued Skittles, Castiel must have been working on his art since he’d come in.  He worked quickly, yet surely, placing glued bits of candy into the various patterns with a careful eye towards the overall design.  Surely he knew Adam was there.  But his angel never looked up.  He simply collected another Skittle from one of his bowls and set about gluing it to the poster board.

            Adam dared to step inside, softly closing the door behind him.  “Hey, buddy,” he called.  “You alright?”

            The blue eyes finally glanced up at Adam, lingering briefly on the singer at the door.  Then he returned to his art.  “Leave me alone, Adam,” he called.  “I really can’t tolerate you clinging to me again right now.”

            “I won’t touch you.  I just want to talk.”

            Castiel didn’t reply, appearing to be absorbed in the act of gluing candy into his art.  Adam came over.  He pulled the chair from the desk over towards the table and sat at it, facing his angel.  “PJ said I needed to see you,” he began.  “Did you want to talk about something?”

            “No.”  His angel didn’t look up from his work.  “PJ came up here, asking if I was alright.  I told him I was fine.  He came around, stood next to me for a time, and then announced that he was dragging Adam fucking Levine’s sorry ass the fuck up here right fucking now.  Then he left.  He seemed quite emotional.”

            Adam frowned, confused.  “Yeah, he was.  And PJ’s not an overly emotional guy.  But something sure got to him.  He seemed really adamant that I come up here.  You sure you’re alright?”

            No answer.

            Adam watched his angel for a moment. Everything about Castiel seemed off. He worked on his candy art with a singlemindedness that bordered on obsessive compulsion, pausing only briefly to inspect his work before reaching for another piece of candy.  The longest he paused was to replace the glue stick in his gun.  Then he was once again hard at work.

            “You’ve been upset all day,” Adam offered.

            “I’m not accustomed to your way of life,” Castiel grumbled.  “And that appears to matter very little to you.  You seem quite determined to keep me here, even after I bring your husband back. But I can’t stay, Adam!  I’ve already had entirely too much exposure. I’m putting you at risk just by being here, and now that your band understands what I am, it’s worse!”

            “Castiel, about what you’re going to do, to bring Blake back?” Adam began.  “I want you to know how much I appreciate it.  I really don’t want you to be trapped here, ok?  For what it’s worth, if there’s any way to get you back, I’ll help you as much as I can!  But if there isn’t?  You don’t have to run off on your own!  I already told you that I don’t want you to go!”

            “We don’t always get what we want, Adam.  I believe I am proof positive of that.  I haven’t gotten what I want since the day we met.”  Castiel’s voice was flat and low as he spoke.

            “...Yeah, ok, I deserved that.”  Adam combed his hands through his hair.  “Castiel, nothing about this whole situation is fair. And I get that you miss your friends. It sucks that you’re going to lose them, and...”

            “I’ll get your husband back, Adam.  I need no convincing or apologies from you.  I’ve already made that decision.”  The blue eyes were locked on his art as he continued to glue candy to the poster board.  “I’m an angel, you ass, not a child!  I’m fully aware of the ramifications of my actions.  And I intend to carry them through.  So this discussion is now over, and I would appreciate it if we didn’t have it again.”

            Adam shifted uncomfortably.  Ok, Castiel clearly didn’t want to talk.  So why had PJ been so adamant about Adam coming up here? What had he said?  Adam needed to see what Castiel had done.  Well, from what Adam could see, the only thing his angel had done was brood and expand his artwork.  It was puzzling, and Adam didn’t like it.  Fine.  Adam got up and moved to join his angel on the bed.  “Can I help you with this, buddy?” he asked, taking a seat.  “I can hand you candy if you tell me what color you…”

            And now he finally saw it.

            From where Adam had been, the design Castiel was creating with the Skittles had appeared to be an abstract collection of groups of colors.  But that was because Adam had been viewing it upside down.  Now, seeing his angel’s artwork from the right direction for the first time, Adam finally understood.  “Oh, fuck me,” he groaned.  “Dammit, Castiel, why didn’t you say anything?!”

            “What would you have me say?” Castiel replied, not pausing in his work.

            “I don’t know!  For starters, you could tell me to stop being such a selfish bastard?!” Adam exclaimed.  “For fuck’s sake, Castiel, you’re hurting just as much as I am!”

            “That seems unlikely.”

            “Are you shitting me?!  Castiel, I’ve been having nightmares about Blake being hurt or dreams about him since I lost him.  But you don’t sleep!  You didn’t have any way to really express what’s been eating you up inside.  Until now!”  Adam indicated the poster board.  “It’s him, isn’t it?  Your Righteous Man!”

            Castiel paused for a moment.  Then he wordlessly reached for another Skittle.

            Spread out before him was the unmistakable portrait of a man’s face, made entirely from Skittles glued to the poster board. It was unreal.  How long had that face been burning inside of his angel’s mind, unable to be expressed, until Castiel had somehow gotten the idea to use candy?! But the fact of it, the level of attention to detail, and most of all the near-obsessive way Castiel continued to work spoke volumes about what was in the heart of the artist.

            Adam watched him work for a bit longer.  Then he reached out and put his hand on Castiel’s shoulder.  “It’s ok, buddy,” he said.  “I get it. We both have someone in your world that we miss!”

            “I’m hardly married to Dean.”

            “Doesn’t matter if you love him even half as much as I love Blake!”  Adam indicated the portrait again.  “And judging by this, you do!  I knew you were fond of the guy, Castiel, but it’s way more than that!”  He nodded, sure of himself.  “I don’t know if it’s because the lore applies to you, or because you’re in a human body, or what it is.  But you have human emotions!  You do! And this here, what you’ve done? This proves it.  It’s not just friendship that you feel for this guy.  You’re in love!  You’re actually in love with Dean Winchester!”

            “That isn’t possible.  I’m an angel, Adam.”

            “You’re an angel capable of human emotions!” Adam insisted.

            “You’ve mistaken me for someone else.  You told me of this Cassiel, but it’s no angel that I’ve ever met.  The only archangels in my world are Lucifer, Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel.”

            “And yet, you respond to the unjustly persecuted, you provide comfort when we’re at our lowest, and you’re attached to the Righteous Man!” Adam pointed out.  “But that’s not the point, ok?  The point is, you absolutely do have human emotions.  And that’s what’s been bothering you!  You knew exactly what you were going to give up.  You knew that, if you helped me get Blake back and became trapped here yourself, that you might never see Dean again.  And that was tearing you apart inside!  No one in this world knew just how much you were really giving up, and for some fucked-up reason, you decided it was penance and you were ok with that.  But I’m not! You miss your Righteous Man so much that you just made a portrait of him, out of fucking Skittles!  _Skittles!_   This is love, Castiel!  You _love_ this man!”  He rubbed at his face and sighed.  “Look, I get it, ok?  Believe me, I get it!  I’ve been where you are!  It’s not easy to admit how you feel about someone, especially not if you go into it expecting to be rejected outright.  I know exactly what that is like!  Because that’s precisely how it was with me and Blake!”

            And now Castiel finally paused.  He sat still, expressionless as he looked at his creation. And then the blue eyes softened. “I suspect that my situation is somewhat different than your own, Adam.  But I do appreciate you trying to understand.”

            “Love is different for everyone,” Adam agreed. “But at the same time, it’s always the same.  Doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a woman or even an angel.  Love means taking chances, putting yourself out there knowing you could get hurt.  Dude, I know more than anyone what the risks are when you open yourself up to someone else! I handed Blake my heart, and he pretty much dashed it to pieces on the ground, ok?  Just like I knew he would!  But if I hadn’t done that?  If I’d never taken that chance?  Then Blake probably never would have even considered that there could be anything more than friendship between us!”  He grimaced and rubbed at his face.  “I know that’s probably not comforting, especially that first part.  I’m not good at this.  Blake would know what to say here.  But there’s one thing I’m living proof of, and that’s this: If you don’t take the first step, you’ll never take that last one!”

            “It doesn’t matter.”  Castiel glued another Skittle.  “I still intend to keep my promise, Adam.  I’ll get Blake back, even if it traps me here.  Whatever I may feel for Dean?  It doesn’t matter.”

            “It does matter!” Adam insisted.  “It absolutely matters!  I’ll confess, I was willing to let you do this before.  I hated the idea of you being trapped here, but frankly, your world seems pretty shitty!  For all I knew it was wrong, I could justify letting you do it because I told myself you’d be better off staying with us.  I thought that you didn’t have much to lose, and we could just keep you here with us and you’d adjust and be happy!  But you do have something to lose, Castiel.  The man you _love_ is in that other world!  And I can’t sacrifice the man you love to bring back the man I love!  We’ve got to get you back to him!”

            “How Adam?”  His angel’s eyes were very blue as he looked at Adam.  “Have you met with the hunters I wasn’t able to contact?  Have you come up with a plan, some way to communicate with my world, or a way to create a gateway back that I could pass through?  Without those things, I’m finding it hard to believe your claim, however earnest you may be about it!”

            “Castiel, listen to me, ok?” Adam pleaded.  “A moment ago, I completely alienated my entire band, including a couple of guys who have been friends with me since we were kids, because I admitted I would completely fuck over an angel who saved my life and I’m really fond of if it meant I could have Blake back.  At the time, I was completely disgusted with myself, and I still am.  But at that point, I just assumed I could keep you with us, you know?  I told myself you wouldn’t lose much, that you’d be ok, and you could stay on as the band’s official bodyguard…”

            “I can’t protect you from what you’re facing here, Adam!” Castiel snapped, suddenly cross.  “I’m an angel.  You look to me as a comforter but I am anything but!  I’ve always been a warrior.  The only time I have ever taken a human vessel and interacted in your world was because I was needed in battle.  Until I met Dean and the others, I never considered anything else!  Human behavior is still strange to me, because I’ve only ever watched you from a distance.  But I’ve fought.  I’ve faced so many things in my existence.  When you asked me to be your bodyguard, I believed that it was a job I could do easily. But twice now you’ve been attacked! And it wasn’t by demons or monsters or even other angels.  It was by _ideas!_   Even if I was this archangel you spoke of, I still couldn’t protect you from ideas!”  He sighed.  “There’s no need for me here, Adam.  I do appreciate your offer, but this isn’t something I can just keep doing. Besides, this latest attack, you largely handled yourself.”

            “Mostly because I knew you’d be coming, and that made me bold, but it’s not the point.  I would have died on that stage at the benefit concert if you hadn’t been there, but that’s not the point either.  This isn’t even about the absolute fact that you would always, always have a place with me, ok, Castiel?  It’s about the fact that you’re hurting as much as I am!  It’s about the fact that I cannot abide watching you let Dean slip through your fingers, not after how hard I fought for Blake!  I was selfish.  I was naive.  And I can’t let you throw this away, alright?”  He took his angel’s shoulders and gave him a little shake.  “Listen to me.  We are going downstairs and we’re going to find out if the guys still want fuck-all to do with me.  And in the remote chance they do, I’m going to beg them for whatever help they can give us. Because I’m getting you home!  Do you hear me?  You’re getting your chance at a relationship with Dean!  I don’t know how, but if there’s any possible way, I _will_ get you back to your Righteous Man!”

            Castiel went quiet.  The blue eyes shifted away from Adam, looking at his candy artwork. “I do care very deeply for him, Adam,” he confessed.  “I shouldn’t, but I do.  And something about being here?  Everything is so much stronger now!”

            “Absence?” Adam suggested, letting him go.  “I know that since I lost Blake, I’ve been noticing all the stupid little shit I loved about him that I’d been taking for granted. Think maybe it’s something like that?”

            His angel considered this, and then shook his head. “There’s more to it than that. Here, I feel…  I’m not sure.  Different, somehow.  Maybe it’s because I’m not connected with Heaven here, but that should make me weaker, just as it does in my own world.  Instead, I feel somehow stronger!  And it shouldn’t be that way, Adam.  Something is wrong with me.”

            Adam stilled.  “What is it?”

            Castiel shook his head.  “I don’t know, but I don’t seem to be in any distress.  In fact, the opposite is true.  I can’t explain it, but everything about me is stronger, including what I feel for Dean.  What I’ve always felt for Dean, since the day I gripped him tight and raised him from Perdition.  I’ve never encountered a soul like his before.  Nothing else I’ve ever encountered in all my long existence has drawn me like my Righteous Man!”

            “And that’s why I need to get you back to him,” Adam insisted.  “I’ll find a way.  I love Blake, and I’d gladly sacrifice myself for him.  But I can’t, I won’t, sacrifice your chance at what we have!”

            Castiel hung his head.  “I don’t deserve it,” he said, so softly Adam almost didn’t hear him.

            Adam stared.  “Why the fuck not?!”

            “Because you have no idea what I’ve done!” Castiel yelled.

            “Dammit, Castiel!” Adam snapped.  “I don’t care, ok?  I don’t fucking care!  You went on and on about all this shit, and who am I to judge?  I wasn’t there!  I couldn’t imagine dealing with what you faced, what these brothers faced, what…” He swallowed hard.  “What Blake might be facing now.  I don’t care what shit you caused, alright?  I just don’t fucking care!”

            Castiel groaned.  “Adam, you don’t understand!  I made a deal that…”

            “No!”  Adam was yelling now.  “Shut the fuck up!  Not one more fucking word!  I don’t care, and I don’t want to hear it!  Just be quiet, Castiel!  I…”

            The door slammed open, revealing a very angry PJ. The keyboardist pointed a threatening finger at Adam.  “Yell at our angel one more time, Adam,” he warned.  “Just one more time!”

            “It’s not how it probably sounded,” Adam sighed, rubbing at his face.  “PJ, can I please just talk to you guys?  I know none of you probably wants to be anywhere near me right now, but it’s not for me, it’s for Castiel.”

            “That so?”  PJ’s expression softened.  He came into the room and put an arm protectively around Castiel’s shoulders. Then he narrowed his eyes at Adam. “You want to talk to the band? Fine.  Then you go get them together.  I’ll bring our angel down if he wants to join us.  But the next time you scream at him like that, Adam...?” PJ stared hard at Adam, letting the threat hang in the air as Castiel blinked in surprise.

            “Yeah, I earned that one,” Adam replied ruefully. He got up.  “I’m going to try talking to the band.  Take care of our angel, PJ.”

            “ _Our_ angel,” PJ growled.  “Not yours! You lost all right to him after what you said tonight!”

            Adam’s shoulders sagged.  “I guess I earned that, too.”  He looked at Castiel.  “Meet me in the living room?”

            Castiel nodded.  He was eyeing PJ, who was still standing next to him with an arm around Castiel’s shoulders. As usual, the angel looked confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says that makes two of them. Liked the Skittles, thought it was very touching. Thinks it’s about time Adam stopped being a whiny little bitch about everything.
> 
> Yes, the Skittles art is real! Misha Collins (Castiel) hosts the Greatest International Scavenger Hunt the World Has Ever Seen, GISHWHES, and puts out lists of crazy things for people to create, do, or find. It seems he enjoys including silly little digs on his co-workers from the show. This was "Create a portrait of Jensen Ackles, in his classic Blue Steel pose, entirely out of Skittles." Google it and take a look at just how talented some people really are! This one isn't the pose called for, but it's above and beyond my favorite.
> 
> Artists, I tried very hard to find a way to contact you, but was unsuccessful. If you stumble over this, you did an absolutely brilliant job here! May not have been specifically what the contest called for, but it's tops in my book! Give me names and an original site (I tried to trace it back but could only find what appears to be reposts), and I'd be delighted to credit you!


	13. Band of Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is introduced to the band as who - and what - he really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can never say THANK YOU enough for my lovely readers, especially those of you who let me know you enjoy my work with your kudos or comments. This past week has been especially difficult. Getting those little e-mails has been one of the few bright spots through it all. God bless you!

            Castiel had no idea what to make of PJ Morton.  The man was giving him awed looks and speaking in soft, respectful tones. Nothing new there.  Human reactions to him once they understood what he was had been similar throughout the ages.  But at the same time, the way he’d threatened Adam and immediately moved to hover over Castiel seemed to indicate the man was somehow trying to protect him.  While humans getting protective over him wasn’t new either, especially with Sam and Dean, the combination of reverent awe and protectiveness was strange. Well, best to go along with it.

            “I want to apologize, Castiel, for, well, everything,” PJ was saying.  He was clutching one of Castiel’s hands with both of his, and while he wasn’t exactly kneeling, he was crouched down in a close approximation of it.  “I kind of guessed you were an angel, or a holy messenger of God of some sort, after what happened at the restaurant.  Then Adam told us how you got stranded here from another world because you were fighting some kind of monster and Blake accidentally stole your ride home.  And now we see this?”  PJ indicated Dean’s portrait.  “I don’t know anything about magic, or monsters, or portals to alternate realities.  But I know what love is.  And that there?  That’s love.” He shook his head, grimacing. “What Adam said downstairs, about how he was willing to just let you trap yourself here to get Blake back…?”

            “He told me.  I understand why he’d want to sacrifice me for Blake.  That was my idea in the first place, so you mustn’t blame him.”

            “But I do blame him!” PJ insisted, scowling.  “We all love Blake, Castiel!  Not like Adam does, but Blake’s a great guy.  I’d give damned near anything to get him back!  But to be willing to just throw you away like that?!”  He shook his head.  “That’s cold, man.  That’s just damned cold!”

            “No,” Castiel corrected.  “That’s human.  Adam needs his husband, and he had no idea what I’d be giving up if I do what I’m still willing to do.  This whole situation is my fault, not Adam’s.”

            “Adam means a lot to me,” PJ declared, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not absolutely disgusted that he’s willing to let you do this!”

            “I’m not so sure he is.”  Castiel got to his feet.  “We should go downstairs, hear what he has to say.”

            “I don’t know that I want to hear another word from Adam Noah Levine tonight, Castiel,” PJ admitted as he moved to follow the angel.  “But if that’s what you feel is the right thing to do?  Well, you’re the angel.”

            Castiel didn’t know what that had to do with anything, but he didn’t respond.

            When Castiel entered the living room, he wasn’t sure what to expect.  Sam rolled his eyes, and James looked thoughtful. But the others stared at him in awe, hastily jumping to their feet.  PJ, who had apparently appointed himself Castiel’s protector, had a hand on the angel’s shoulder.  He was casting a cool eye towards Adam, who was perched on the ottoman facing everyone else.  The keyboardist accompanied Castiel to a chair that faced the band.  Then he positioned himself next to Castiel’s chair with his arms crossed when Castiel sat down.  Castiel was starting to wonder who was the bodyguard?

            “Hey, um…”  Mickey looked a bit wild-eyed.  “I don’t know what to call you!  Is there, like, a title?  Like, ‘Your Holiness’ or something like that?”

            “It’s just Castiel,” Castiel explained patiently.  “I’m an angel, not the Pope.”

            Sam sighed loudly.

            “Ok, Castiel!”  Mickey’s voice had a noticeable tremor.  “I’m really, really sorry about that business in the bar.  I mean, we just thought you were a cool guy, and…”

            “He’s the same guy!” Adam exclaimed.

            “No he isn’t, Adam!”

            “You can’t expect us to treat him like a bodyguard now that we know what he is!”

            “Don’t call him a ‘what!’  That’s offensive!”

            “Is it offensive?”

            “Of course it’s offensive, asshole!”

            “Oh shit!  Sorry, Castiel, I didn’t mean to offend you!”

            “I’m not offended,” Castiel offered.

            “I cannot believe we took you to that damned club!  Er, sorry, no offense!”

            “Now that’s got to be offensive!”

            “Yeah, isn’t that, like, a slight against angel kind?”

            “Yeah!  Angels are holy, and that’s the opposite of holy!”

            “It’s definitely offensive.”

            “It’s an insult to angel kind!”

            “Seriously?!”

            “It’s totally offensive!”

            “I’m offended for him!”

            “Yeah, stop disrespecting our angel!”

            “For fuck’s sake, he is not an angel!”

            “Shut up, Farrar, no one asked you.”

            “That’s because you’re all too drunk and stupid to use your brains!”

            “I am pretty drunk.”

            “Dude, I don’t even know what day this is right now.”

            “All I know is, I’m gonna pound the next motherfucker who insults angel kind around our angel!”

            “I said I was sorry!”

            “Oh my Dad!” Castiel exclaimed, chuckling and shaking his head.  “Would you all please just calm down?!  First, I’m not offended, so please stop getting offended on my behalf.  And second, Adam’s right.  I’m not any different now than I was when you thought I was your bodyguard!  And I’m still your bodyguard, at least for now.”

            “Talk about being under divine protection,” someone muttered.

            Castiel’s sense of humor vanished.  “I’ll tell you what I told Adam.  I can deal with any number of human or supernatural threats, so by that aspect, yes, you are likely safer with me.  I can stop bullets, I can still heal you from nearly dead if you are injured, I can possibly even resurrect you...”

            “Holy mother of _fuck!”_

            “Seriously?!”

            “Our angel can bring back the dead!”

            “I said possibly,” Castiel corrected, holding up a hand.  “There are some deaths that no one can come back from. Plus, my powers aren’t what they once were, not since Metatron stole my Grace and used it to cast all the angels out of Heaven.  Being in the wrong universe doesn’t help that!”  But that wasn’t true, Castiel quietly admitted to himself.  He’d tried to explain his situation to Adam, but he wasn’t sure that the singer understood the significance of what he was saying.  After the initial hit his powers had taken when he’d accidentally sent Blake to his world, his powers had not only recovered, they’d grown.  If anything, he felt stronger than he’d ever felt!  He had no idea what that meant.  He brushed the thought aside uncomfortably and continued.  “But none of that matters,” he insisted, “because ever since I’ve come to your world, the only real threats you have faced are based on ideas.  Not even the most powerful of the archangels can fight ideas!”

            “Ok, can we just get this out of the way right now?” Sam called.  “Do you have any proof at all that you’re an angel?”

            That produced some more yelling.  Castiel rolled his eyes and stayed as he was, resolving to wait it out. Adam finally jumped on the table of the ottoman and shouted everyone else down.  Then he turned to Castiel.  “I hate to ask you this,” he began, “but could you please resolve the angel question so we can move forward?”

            Castiel eyed him.  Then he got up, walked over, and healed Adam’s cuts and bruises.

            Silence.  Then once again, yelling filled the living room.  Sam Farrar was so pale he appeared to be about to pass out, while James was clinging to his band mates, shouting that he’d never doubt them again.  Matt was literally dancing around.  Castiel rolled his eyes, returned to his chair, and let Adam once again regain control. 

            “Alright, now we know that Matt was right, and we’re all on the same page on the angel thing,” Adam announced once the room quieted in response to his bellow. “Let’s resolve issue two.  Yes, I’m a douche bag.  Yes, I’m selfish and a horrible all-around person because yes, even though I wanted to keep trying to find a way to help Castiel, I was willing to let my ang…  To let Castiel,” he corrected seeing PJ’s glare, “sacrifice his own way home if that meant I could get Blake back.  I have no acceptable excuse for that.  But it’s not how I feel anymore!  Because now I understand that Castiel’s got someone he misses as much as I miss Blake!”

            “Another angel?” Jesse wanted to know.

            Castiel scoffed.  “Certainly not!  And Adam, you’re exaggerating.  I have a profound bond with Dean, but I don’t believe it’s nearly what you have with Blake.” If it was, his problem would have been solved.  He would have been able to link up with Dean the same way that Adam planned to link with Blake.  But Adam didn’t need to know that.  It couldn’t possibly make any sort of difference.

            “You know, that makes me very happy to know that a male angel has feelings for another male,” Matt declared.  “Wouldn’t Merl Brandon and those ignorant asshats in the White Knights love it once that got out?”

            “Well, Castiel’s not really a male,” Adam mumbled.  “He’s kind of wearing a guy?  But relax, the guy isn’t in there, Castiel’s just wearing his body.”

            “Jimmy Novak died the first time my vessel, this body, was destroyed,” Castiel confirmed, seeing the wide-eyed looks.  “So now his soul is in Heaven, and the body’s mine.  But what happened to Novak does prove a point.  The entire process of how we claim vessels is... It’s not ideal.  A human has to agree to let us in, but once we’re in, the human is basically, well, shunted aside.”

            “Still aware?”

            Castiel nodded, his eyes fixed on the floor.  “I’ve taken many vessels in my existence, and it’s been a terribly traumatic experience for all of them.  I was forced out of this one for a short time, an incident with my brother angels, and Novak never wanted to let me in again.  But I needed a vessel, and only certain humans are capable of providing them.  It’s genetic, passed through families.  So I took Novak’s daughter, and he agreed to let me back into him so that I would leave her.”  He shook his head.  “I destroyed that man and his entire family when I took him away!  So you see, I’m not this holy, sacred creature you seem to believe me to be.  I’ve taken vessels with no regard to the humans they belonged to because there was no other way, and because I never really thought about the humans.  That’s changed.  If I lose this vessel, I...  I don’t know that I can take another, that I can do that to another human.”

            Silence.  Castiel rubbed at his face.  “The second lesson of my story is that gender really isn’t an issue because I’ve also had female vessels.  Besides, I’m not exactly the gold standard for angelic behavior.  There’s a reason I don’t live in Heaven anymore.”  He forced a smile.  “I understand if you’re upset, or want me to leave.”

            A chorus of objections rose from the band.

            “Castiel, you did what you had to do,” Jesse soothed.  “Yeah, that sucks for Jimmy Novak, but if he hadn’t let you in, you’d have just had to find someone else!  You had a job to do, you needed a vessel to do it, and there wasn’t any other choice, was there?”

            “No,” Castiel admitted.  “There wasn’t.  I needed a human vessel, so I took Novak.  Then all I could do was try to look after his family as well as I was able.”

            “One problem,” James called.  “Didn’t they fingerprint you, Castiel, when they were first collecting evidence after Blake disappeared?  You don’t think that caused a problem for Jimmy Novak here, do you?”

            “If he even exists here,” Mickey pointed out.  “This is a whole other reality!”

            “And that brings up a point.  Have you tried to contact Heaven since you’ve come to this reality?” PJ asked respectfully. “Maybe here, you could go back?”

            “I can’t go to Heaven because my wings were burned,” Castiel explained. “There’s a way I can communicate but… It’s difficult to explain.  Dean calls it ‘Angel Radio,’ our method of communication.  I can hear angels here, but it’s like they’re speaking in a different language.  Our two realities, they’re alike in a lot of ways but also different.  For example, in my world, Adam Levine is a country singer.”

            “Now that’s interesting,” James mused.  “That means there could be alternate versions of all of us over there! I wonder what I’d be like?”

            “We’re off topic,” Adam complained.  “Again!  Castiel is here, and we need to find a way to get him back to his Righteous Man, back in his own reality.  Now I told you about the requirements for this spell.  We’re short a way to link to Castiel’s reality, and we’re short a way to communicate.  The only thing we could think of is to find hunters, people who would know enough about the supernatural to give us some real help.  And that’s where Castiel keeps running up against a wall!  So how can we find this world’s social equivalent of the Winchesters?”

            “Would it help if we had the Winchesters?”

            It was the first thing Sam had said since Castiel had healed Adam.  Castiel looked hard at the man.  “What do you mean?”

            “Well, you’re talking about an alternate reality, right?” Sam began. “And we’ve established that some people, like Adam, exist in both realities.  Well, if Adam exists in your world, why couldn’t the Winchesters exist in ours?”

            “It’s a great idea, but the first thing Castiel did when he started looking for hunters was ask about them,” Adam pointed out.  “If they’re hunters here, no one is willing to tell us.”

            “Maybe they’re not hunters?” Jesse suggested.  “Maybe, just like Adam is a country singer in Castiel’s world, the Winchesters are, like, used car salesmen in ours?”

            Sam had his computer out.  “There’s ways to find out.  Sites like this one?  For a fee, you can find almost anyone!”

            “Really?”  Castiel quickly moved over to where he could look over the man’s shoulder.  This earned him an anxious look, but Castiel ignored it.  “What do you need?”

            “As much information as you can give me.”

            Castiel rattled off everything he knew about Dean’s true identity.  “I’d be very surprised if you could find him,” he confessed.  “The Winchesters are very good at hiding their identity!  Even the FBI couldn’t…”

            “Found him!” Sam announced.  He pointed at a picture.  “That him?”

            Castiel sucked in his breath.  There he was, his Righteous Man, looking back at him from the screen.  Dean looked younger, thinner than the last time Castiel had seen him.  But it was unmistakably Dean Winchester.

            Adam, who was hanging over the back of the sofa, gave a low whistle.  “Nice, buddy!  I see the appeal.  As the resident bisexual, I approve!”

            Castiel blinked at him.

            “You may be right after all, though,” Sam noted.  “This picture is from an old driver’s license that’s expired now.  Last known address is seven years old, nothing here about work history.  Our world’s version of Dean seems to be as off the grid as yours.”

            “Oh.”  Castiel sagged in disappointment.  “Makes sense, I suppose.  He may very well be a hunter here, but finding him is still going to be difficult.”

            “Hang on, don’t get too excited, we’re not beat yet!” Sam urged.  “There’s next of kin listed, Samuel William Winchester. Great first name, I approve.”

            “That’s Sam, his brother.  But if Dean’s off the grid, you won’t be able to…”

            “Check it out, he’s right here!” Sam called.  “He’s a partner in a law firm in Kansas, and this is the web site.  All the partners are here, see?  Sam W. Winchester, Attorney-At-Law!”

            “What?!”  Castiel rudely grabbed the computer and sat heavily down on the arm rest.  He stared at the picture of Sam Winchester, barely recognizable with his hair shorter and neatly styled back.  He wore a suit, a tie, and a serious expression as he stood with his partners, arms crossed over his chest.  Sam loomed over the other three.  He appeared to be the youngest partner, as the other lawyers appeared to be in their fifties or sixties.  The law firm of Switzer, Holden, Mortigan and Winchester announced itself as the top experts in the area in the field of criminal justice.  Clicking on Sam’s name brought up another picture.  This one looked more recent.  The picture was also much less formal, looking more like the Sam Castiel remembered.  Sam was perched on a desk, looking cool, friendly, and confident.  The information listed below his picture claimed he specialized in pro bono and low income cases. 

            Castiel smiled.  “Sam was in school to be a lawyer until the same demon who’d murdered his mother murdered his girlfriend,” he recalled.  “It makes sense that he’d be a lawyer here!  And criminal justice?”  His smile widened.  “I can’t think of anyone else I know who would need the services of a good defense lawyer more than Dean Winchester!”  He stood up. “This is perfect!  I’ll go there immediately and speak with Sam.”

            “Whoa, slow down!” Adam cautioned.  “Couple of things.  First, you can’t just go charging into this guy’s office and demand to speak to him and his brother, especially if Dean is a hunter here!  What will you say?”

            Castiel frowned.  “Well, I’ll explain to him that I’m an angel of the Lord from another dimension, and…”

            “Yeah, how about you don’t do that?” Sam sighed.  “Do you not remember how I reacted?  Trust me, I won’t be the last person who doesn’t believe you, Castiel! All you’ll do is freak him out!”

            “True story!” Mickey called.  “I’m over here freaking out about the demons killing people thing!  Seriously, demons?!  That what happened to your wings?”

            “That was another angel.”  Castiel dismissed the subject with a wave, oblivious to the incredulous gasps his statement produced.  “So this is another occasion to lie like we want to be President?  Alright.”

            That produced nothing but confused looks.

            Adam cleared his throat.  “Moving on! The second thing to consider is that we’re leaving in the morning to hit a couple of shows.  And the second show we’re doing is in Topeka, Kansas!  This law firm is right there in the city!”  Adam gave him a warm smile.  “Stay with us, Castiel.  Our schedule is that we arrive that afternoon, do the show that night, and then head back the next day.  There’s no reason you and I can’t stay and check out the Winchesters.  We can make an appointment with Sam first thing in the morning, and go see him when we get there!  We can always catch up to the bus later if we need to.”

            “Yeah, just travel with us!” Matt urged.  “We kind of like having you around anyway.”

            That surprised Castiel.  “You want me to stay?  Even knowing what you know now?”

            Nods and smiles all around.

            “Dude, no matter how much Adam might piss us off, this group here?”  Mickey indicated the band.  “We’re a band of brothers.”

            “That we are,” Jesse agreed.  “Take it from the guy who dropped out of school with this tattooed freak.”  He jerked a thumb at Adam.  “Adam Levine is an asshole who has pissing people off down to a science!  But we stick around, because we’re masochistic and because we love the stupid shit.  And you saved him at that concert, Castiel!”

            “Straight up, if you hadn’t been there, he’d be dead!” James exclaimed. He fondly hugged Adam.  “Hell, you may have saved us all!  Bastard shot at Adam first, but we were all wide-open targets on that stage!  So as far as I’m concerned?  Move in, dude.  You’re one of us!”

            “But we can’t forget what you are, either, Castiel,” PJ insisted.  “If, at any time, you need to go off and do some divine mission or something?  We get it. And we’ll help all we can!  Anything you need, just ask it!”

            “Damned straight!” Sam called, slapping Castiel on the shoulder.

            “Quit insulting angel kind!”

            “For fuck’s sake, Sam, that’s offensive!”

            “Yeah, dumbass!”

            “I thought you were supposed to be the smart guy in this group?”

            “Bend over, it’s time for an asskicking!”

            “Shit, sorry!  I forgot!”

            “I’m not offended!” Castiel called loudly.

            Sam gave him a grateful smile.  “Thanks, man. I seriously am a dumb motherfucker, ok? I promise not to forget again!”

            Castiel sighed and gave up a lost cause.  “I forgive you.”

            That earned him an even bigger smile.  “Thanks, man!  Anything you need from me, you just ask!”

            “Yeah, that goes for all of us!”

            “You got it!”

            “So, Castiel, what do you say?”

            “You want to stick around for the ride?”

            “Yeah, come on!”

            “We got your back.”

            “Will you stay with us?”

            Castiel smiled.  “I’d love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun was surprised and said it was awesome when they found the Winchesters. Thinks it’s cool that they’re going to go see Sammy. Laughed about how the band keeps talking over each other and that “damned” is now a slight against angel kind.


	14. Strong Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late at night, Adam finally gets the chance to speak with Castiel about how he really feels about Dean

            Adam couldn’t sleep.  He tossed and turned, tried meditating, and always ended up just staring off into the darkness.  His body longed for rest, but his mind simply refused to let it happen.  All he could think about was Blake.  Something was wrong with Blake.  Adam was sure of it.  But what could he do?  Maybe the Winchester brothers would have the answer?  But what if he and Castiel couldn’t find a way to reach Blake, bring him back?  No.  He couldn’t think like that.  They would find the answer.  They had to.  Adam refused to even consider his life without Blake in it.  Every moment Blake wasn’t with him was hell.

            Then he thought of Castiel.  Castiel was clearly in love, and hurting as badly as Adam himself.  But the angel was still willing to give Dean up, to help Adam.  He’d been willing from the start, knowing what it would cost him! Because, despite what anyone with eyes could clearly see, Castiel wouldn’t, couldn’t, let himself admit the truth. He’d never told Dean how he felt, never put himself out there for a chance at a real relationship.

            Adam could identify all too strongly with that.

            Finally he sighed, gave up, and climbed out of bed. He checked the time.  Two am.  Shit. Well, at least there was one person in his house that he was absolutely certain would be up.  Adam quickly went out of his room and crossed the hall to tap on Castiel’s door.

            He’d expected Castiel to be on the computer again. But the computer was off when his angel answered the door.  Adam smelled hot glue and realized that Castiel had been back at his candy picture of Dean.  “Hey, buddy,” Adam began.  “I can’t sleep.  Can I come in?”

            Castiel pushed the door open and went into the room. He’d set the bowls of Skittles aside, and his glue gun was cooling on a table.  The chair he’d been sitting in while he worked on his picture was now placed in front of the window.  Castiel returned to the chair and gazed out while Adam moved to check the completed art.

            Adam was astounded.  Now finished, the edible portrait of Dean Winchester took up the entire poster board, clear out to the edges.  “Unbelievable,” he noted.  “This is incredible!  I can’t believe you did this with Skittles!”

            His angel shrugged.  The blue eyes stared out at the night.

            Adam stepped up behind him and put his hands on his angel’s shoulders.  “You really miss him, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

            “I miss them all,” Castiel corrected.  “But my bond with Dean is strongest, so yes. I miss him.  Very much so.”

            “If you could talk to him right now?” Adam asked cautiously.  “Do you think you could let him know that?”

            “He knows.  He was there when I explained our special bond to Sam.”

            Adam sighed.  “Castiel, we’re both artists, even though we use different mediums.  I express myself through my music.  You apparently do it through candy.  But for both of us, it’s a way to let our hearts say what our heads may not be able to fully understand, or at least admit.”

            “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

            “Of course not.”  Adam crouched down, ducked down behind Castiel, and looked out past his angel’s ear through the window, trying to see what had drawn his attention. “What are you looking at?”

            “The moon,” Castiel told him.

            Adam frowned, eyeing the tiny sliver in the sky. “Not much left of it.”

            “Precisely.  It’s a new moon coming up.  The spell has to be cast on the full moon, which is in two weeks.  We’re running out of time, Adam!  And if we can’t...”  He suddenly paused, seeming to reconsider his words.  “If we can’t find the Winchesters, or they can’t help us?  We need to think about what our next step is.”

            “Castiel, if I can’t see my husband in two weeks, it’s going to tear me apart.  I won’t lie. But even if we can’t find a way to make this happen then, it just means we have another month to figure it out!” Adam insisted.  “And then another, and another after that, until we get it right!  Because we’re going to get it right, ok?  I will never, ever give up on Blake!  And you shouldn’t give up on Dean, either!  We’ll keep trying, as long as it takes!”

            The angel grimaced.  He opened his mouth, and for a moment, Adam thought he was going to tell him something.  But then Castiel only shook his head.  “I won’t give up.  I’m just trying to plan ahead.”

            Adam tilted his head to peer at Castiel’s face. “You’re worried!  Why?  You nervous about seeing Dean again?”

            The blue eyes shifted quickly, as though looking for an exit.  He reached up and pulled Adam’s hands away.  Then he stood up and began to pace.  “I’ve considered two possible outcomes for our meeting with Sam Winchester,” he explained.  “One, Sam and Dean aren’t hunters.  They’re ordinary people leading ordinary lives.  That seems the most likely scenario.”

            “But if that’s the case, Sam’s profession could still be of help to us,” Adam pointed out.  “The guy’s a criminal defense lawyer.  That means he’ll have some connections!”

            Castiel considered this.  “That is possible, and hopeful.  But then we have the second scenerio.  In this one, Sam is a lawyer, but Dean is a hunter.  And if that is the case, we’ll have our work cut out for us. Because Sam’s natural instinct will be to protect his brother.  And if Dean perceives us as a threat, well, best case is he traps or banishes me, worst case he tries to kill us both.”

            Adam swallowed hard.  “He could do that?”

            “My Dean absolutely could.”  The complete conviction in Castiel’s voice made Adam blink. “He’s trapped and banished me before. While I have difficulty imagining a situation where he’d honestly try to kill me, he could certainly do it.  He has killed angels before!”

            “Oh.”  Adam felt chilled.  Killed angels?!  This world Castiel was from was flat-out terrifying, and Blake was in it!  But he couldn’t think about that now.  At the moment, there was nothing he could do to help Blake.  But Castiel was another matter.  “Listen, why don’t you come with me down to the studio?” he suggested.  “You showed me your art.  Let me show you mine!  And maybe I can explain what I mean about how art lets your heart speak what your mind doesn’t dare to say?”

            Castiel gave him a look, and Adam felt sure he’d refuse.  But after a moment of mulling it over, Castiel finally nodded.  “Alright.”

            “Great!  Follow me!” Adam quickly led Castiel through the darkened house and into the studio.  Once inside, he turned on the lights and pulled the doors closed. “This is soundproof,” he explained. “So we won’t wake the band.”

            “Good.”  Castiel was roaming around in the studio, looking about curiously.

            Adam let him explore for a bit.  “What do you think of my studio?” he said.

            Castiel looked thoughtful.  “It appears well equipped for your art,” he noted.  “Reflects a certain amount of your personality. But everything about you does, Adam. Especially those tattoos!”

            Adam brightened.  “You like ‘em?”  He rolled up the arm of his t-shirt a bit more, displaying his tats.  “I’ve always loved tattoos.  They’re great!  If they’re good, you can almost read a person just by looking at their skin.”

            “I should honestly see about getting you at least one more,” Castiel mused.  “Sam and Dean have one, an anti-possession tattoo.  It protects them from demons.”

            “That so?  A tat that’s actually functional?  Sure, I’d like that!”

            “I’m not entirely sure where we’d put it,” Castiel noted.  “The amount of unmarked skin on your body seems somewhat limited, Adam.”

            Adam shrugged.  “I’ll find a spot.  Sit down, put your feet up.”

            Castiel did exactly that, and Adam laughed.  His angel gave him a puzzled look.  Then he chuckled as well.  “I take it you didn’t mean that literally?”

            “No, but it’s fine.  Leave ‘em up.”

            “Alright.”  Castiel relaxed.  “So! You wanted to show me your art?”

            “Yeah, I did.”  Adam pinched his lips together, thinking.  “That picture you made.  I told you what I thought it meant.”

            “And I told you that you’re mistaken.”  Some of Castiel’s good humor had faded with his smile.

            “Alright, prove me wrong, then,” Adam urged.  “I want you to think about your Righteous Man.”

            Castiel’s lips curled again into a small smile.  “Alright?”

            “Ok, think about Dean, and tell me what you’re thinking about?”

            “Green eyes?” Castiel offered.  “His voice, his smile.  How he makes a joke about absolutely everything, it’s infuriating sometimes.  It’s like he can’t take anything seriously!”

            “I can relate.”

            “Yes, you’re a lot like him,” the angel grumbled. “He’s bow-legged, so he has a rather distinctive walk.  Sam once teased him that it was like his knees had restraining orders against each other.  Of course, Dean just thanked him and said that it was a shame someone as freakishly tall as Sam was hadn’t been blessed with all things in proportion.”  He frowned.  “I never did quite understand that one.”

            Adam snickered.  “So he’s got a raunchy sense of humor.  Ok, what else?”

            “Dean is a warrior,” Castiel declared.  “He’ll stand and fight when everyone else turns and runs, because he’s so incredibly brave!  Dean has faced impossible odds, been torn to pieces and beaten to a pulp. I actually beat him to a pulp once myself, after I turned my back on Heaven and he tried to do precisely what we’d been fighting to keep him from being forced into!  After all we’d gone through, he tried to just throw it all away, to give up his life and his freedom and usher in the apocalypse, simply because he didn’t see a way we could win.  I literally knocked some sense into him.  It’s painful to recall, something I’m not proud of, but still feel was necessary.  And all he said about it was ‘Don’t piss off the nerd angels.’  Sense of humor, like you said.”

            “Oooookay, you guys clearly have a very complicated relationship,” Adam noted, wide-eyed.  “But while it wasn’t quite where I was going with this line of thought, maybe we can use that.  When you were fighting with Dean, what really upset you?  Was it that he’d messed up all your plans, and was throwing away what you’d all fought for?”

            “No,” Castiel replied immediately.  “It was that he put so little value on himself! Dean has always fought, always tried to beat the odds.  Until then, he’d resisted everything the hosts of Heaven did to try to force him to say yes to becoming Michael’s vessel.  Nothing we’d done, nothing my brothers tried, could break Dean. Because Dean would resist anything they did to him!  But when my brothers tried a different tactic, when they turned instead on someone Dean cared about?  Dean gave up. He knew what becoming Michael’s vessel would do to him, but it didn’t matter.  He was going to say yes anyway because he put so little worth on himself that he didn’t even consider it worth a second thought!  All that mattered was that he not let what was planned for him fall on someone else!”

            “Well, that makes sense,” Adam dared to offer, taking a chance.  “I mean, if that was the fate meant for Dean, then it’s only right he stepped up rather than let it happen to someone else, right?  Why’s Dean so special?”

            “Because he _is!”_   Castiel’s hands were clenched, his jaw tense.  “He puts himself and what he wants below everyone else around him.  He puts up a facade to keep the world at bay, try to make everyone believe he’s not worthy of being loved.  But this is what he does!  He fights and bleeds for everyone around him, and it never occurs to him that he’s risking anything of value because he puts such little value on himself.  But Dean is the most precious of souls!  He’s selfless and brave and loyal, and he means far more to me than he will ever know!”

            Silence fell.  Castiel’s chest rose and fell with his rapid breathing.  The blue eyes seemed far away, considering what he’d just said.

            Adam grabbed a bottle of water out of the mini fridge and handed it to his angel.  Castiel stared at it for a moment as if unsure of what it was.  Then he cautiously accepted it and took a drink. Adam pulled another for himself, sat down to sip at it and considered his words.  “When I first told Blake I had feelings for him?” he began.  “Blake reacted with disgust.  He cursed me for ruining our friendship and ordered me out. Told me he never wanted to see me again.  So I went. I went out to the tallest bridge I could find and I stood on the edge of it.  Then I looked down, and everything in me wanted to jump.”

            Castiel froze, looking at him.

            “I didn’t, in the end,” Adam explained. “But I kind of did.  I went to see some people I was acquainted with, and brought a large quantity of interesting drugs.  Then I spent some extra time with my make-up artist to hide the effects, and did the rest of that season of ‘The Voice’ high.  High enough to keep functioning and interact with Blake without letting it hit me too hard.”

            “But after the show, I really fell.  I turned my phone off and pretty much vanished for a couple of days.  Then I did everything I could to drown out my pain.  I don’t even remember half of what I did.  I slept with strangers who meant nothing, I drank, I did pretty much every drug. I went into back allies after drugs, practically asking someone to mug me, and when someone finally did, what I remember the most is screaming after the guy, calling him a fucking coward because he hadn’t killed me.  I drank until I passed out pretty much every night.  And eventually, I woke up literally in a ditch.  I’d driven my car off the road high.  I could have killed someone, Castiel!  But even that didn’t really get through to me, because I just didn’t care about anything at all anymore.  When I woke up in that ditch, I was actually a little disappointed that I woke up.  That’s the state I was in.  I just called my agent, he covered up for me, and no one ever knew.”

            “But I was an addict,” Adam continued.  “And I stayed one, until Blake finally figured out something was wrong.”  He chuckled. “When Blake tells this story, he leaves most of this part out.  To hear him tell it, he came crawling back to me and I just accepted him back and we lived happily ever after!  I guess he doesn’t like to remember how I really was, what that time was like.  But the truth is, I’d be dead if it wasn’t for Blake.  That day, when I finally came home after I’d gone off the road and Blake saw the mess I’d made of myself and my life?  He, well, kidnapped me.”  He smiled, noting the look on his angel’s face.  “Calling it like it was.  The big son of a bitch rolled me up in a blanket, shoved me kicking and screaming into that speaker case to your left there, and shut me in.  Then he just loaded me into his truck and took me home with him.  He pretty much held me hostage until I dried out.”  Adam shook his head.  “I guess that was kind of our version of the fight you had with Dean.  I know going through withdrawal kind of felt like Blake was beating the shit out of me, even though the most he put his hands on me was when he pushed me down and sat on me for about two hours when I was trying to get out and get stoned again.  It was not a pretty picture, but he wouldn’t give up.  Wouldn’t give _me_ up. I never did tell him where I’d gone, what I’d been doing during those few days.  I think it would break his heart if he knew, especially if he knew how close I’d come to killing myself one way or another.  Because he did care about me.  I knew that.  And then, when I was finally sober and coherent again, he told me that he wanted to give what we had, our friendship, another shot.  And I told him I couldn’t.  I couldn’t be friends with him, not when I wanted so much more!  And you know what that idiot did, Castiel? He just looked at me and said, ‘Well, let’s just see where it goes.’  Because while I was out pickling my brains and putting everyone else around me at risk?  Blake found the strength to look past all the shit he’d been raised to believe and finally take a long, clear look at who I really was.  And for whatever reason, he saw someone he wanted to spend time with. That’s how strong he is.”

            “I see.”  Castiel’s voice was soft.  “But not everyone is that strong, Adam.”

            Adam got up.  He picked up a guitar and focused on it, thinking.  “So, you’re an angel,” he began as he tuned the instrument.  “That means you know about music, right?”

            “Not really,” Castiel corrected.  The angel’s blue eyes still had that far-off, wistful look Adam had noted when he’d been looking out at the sliver of moon.  “Not any form you could understand.  Your music is based on sound waves, while ours is much more advanced.”  He paused. “Humans still make beautiful music, though,” he added apologetically.  “I enjoy listening to many forms of it.”

            Adam chuckled.  “It’s funny.  You apologize for things you don’t need to, and you’re clueless half the time when you actually do insult someone!”

            Castiel frowned.  “Is this an occasion where I should apologize?”

            “Nah.”  Adam waved towards a chair.  “Come here and sit down.  Let me teach you a bit about human music.”

            Adam finished tuning the guitar, still considering his words.  Castiel, he mused, had quite likely heard every form of human music.  It was possible that there was nothing at all Adam could teach him.  Still, the pretense of a music lesson gave Adam the excuse he needed to keep talking to him.  In Adam’s mind, he again saw the portrait the angel had made out of Skittles.  The idea of a portrait made of candy still brought a smile to his lips.  But the feeling behind it, combined with the look on Castiel’s face any time he’d spoken of this Dean guy, had made something very clear to Adam.  What Castiel felt for his Righteous Man wasn’t an angel’s fondness for his charge.  Castiel was deeply, hopelessly in love.  The idea, on its face, was ludicrous and doomed from the start. Castiel was an angel, and from what he could tell, Dean was an asshole.  Courageous, loyal, and self-sacrificing to the point of the ridiculous, but definitely an asshole.  Only an asshole could treat someone like Castiel the way Dean had treated him.

            Yeah, ok, Adam thought to himself.  So he’d come to care about his sweet, naive angel. Sue him.  Adam still, if he ever met this Dean joker, had every intention of punching the bastard right in the mouth.  He deserved it for taking someone like Castiel so much for granted!

            But then again, Adam had taken Blake for granted, hadn’t he?  He’d always just assumed Blake would be there, until one day he simply wasn’t. Now he was determined that the same tragedy wouldn’t happen for Castiel.

            Adam climbed onto a chair next to Castiel and set himself up to play.  His fingers danced along the frets, strumming a bit of “She Will Be Loved.”  “What kind of music do you enjoy listening to, Castiel?” he asked.

            “Dean primarily listens to classic rock,” Castiel informed him.

            Adam smiled.  “Good for him, but I asked about you?”

            Castiel seemed confused by the question.  “Well, typically I don’t have much opportunity to listen to music on my own,” he confessed.  “When we’re driving, the rule is ‘driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole,’ and Dean generally only listens to classic rock.”  He paused.  “Of course, when I take a turn driving, as I don’t have a preference, he also generally only listens to classic rock.”

            Yup.  Dean was definitely getting a punch in the mouth.  “Ok, let’s try something different, then.”  Adam’s fingers moved again, bringing out a different tune. “You’re a soldier, right?”

            “That’s right.  I’ve been a soldier since I was created.  I’ve been in a lot of battles in my time.”

            “I’ll bet!”  Adam played a bit more, playing a slow, somewhat mournful tune.  “Your Righteous Man, Dean.  It’s clear that you really care about him, don’t you?”

            “Dean and I share a profound bond,” Castiel explained.  “I’m not sure Sam understands it.  I mentioned how he got upset when he realized I liked Dean more than him?  I wasn’t going to mention it, but Sam brought it up. I did try to explain, about our bond, but that just made him more upset.”

            Adam decided to just plunge ahead and let the chips fall where they may.  “You’re in love with Dean, and you know it.  Don’t you, Castiel?”

            Silence.  Adam looked up and saw the angel was staring at him.  Adam’s playing faltered under the intensity of that gaze.  Castiel continued to stare, but Adam quickly realized that the angel wasn’t actually staring at him at all.  The blue eyes were looking straight through him, their owner giving careful thought to Adam’s question.  Adam stilled, letting the angel think it over.  It almost seemed as if Castiel had never actually considered it. Adam suddenly felt a bit anxious, wondering if perhaps he’d crossed a line?  No matter how human Castiel seemed, he was, unquestionably, an angel. An angel’s power was immense.  There were uncounted dead bodies throughout history who could testify to that.  And the truth of the matter was that Castiel had already killed someone, the man who’d shot at Adam.  His angel was frighteningly strong, had access to unknown powers, could shrug off bullets...  There was no doubt Castiel was a killer, and could easily kill again.  This was a being who had existed since the dawn of creation.  He’d probably seen civilizations rise and fall, fought in celestial battles Adam couldn’t even imagine.  He’d gotten here in the first place by fighting a fiery spirit from the underworld! And Adam had just asked him how he was feeling like he was a TV shrink.  He squirmed, suddenly feeling embarrassed.  He was about to try to change the subject when Castiel finally spoke.

            “Am I in love with Dean?” Castiel repeated. “Am I?  I don’t know.  I’ve known for some time that we have a special bond.  I went into Hell for Dean and pulled him out, then did the same for his brother.  I’ve faced monsters and demons and other angels at Dean’s side.  I’ve been imprisoned, banished, beaten, tortured, even gotten myself into situations where I’ve been destroyed by archangels to try to protect him. But Dean has done almost all of that himself, and for people who are little more than strangers!”

            “Why?” Adam asked quietly.

            “Why?  Why does he do that?”

            “Sure, let’s start with that.”

            Once again, Castiel considered the question. “My Father created me to be a warrior,” he began.  “That’s all I know.  Dean is much the same.  His human father raised him a certain way.  His mother was killed by a demon, his brother was marked and altered, and Dean grew up doing all he could do to protect Sam and be a good son to his father. Everything he has done has been with those two goals in mind, Adam.  He fought all his life to save others, strangers he’d never see again, because he knew how it felt to have someone you loved taken by a monster.  And he sacrificed everything, his life, any chance of happiness or love, to keep hunting.  All he has ever had was his brother.  Dean literally went to Hell to save his brother, and that is where I met him.  From the moment my palm burned its mark into Dean’s arm as I gripped him tight and raised him from Perdition, I knew he was special.  At the time, I believed he was only special because he had a purpose.  Dean was chosen as the vessel of Michael, Michael’s Sword.  When I first sought him out in Hell, when I raised him up, repaired his body and restored his life?  I believed he was only a means to an end.  And yet…”

            The angel paused, considering his thoughts. Adam stayed silent, letting him think. Castiel rose from his place and paced for a bit.  Then he leaned quietly against the wall.  He looked as though he no longer had the strength to stand upright unaided.  His head hung, his body leaned heavily against the wall as if he were exhausted after fighting a long, long battle.  And then, Castiel began to speak again. “Dean is a Righteous Man.  He is like a diamond among stones, shining brighter than any other soul I’ve ever seen.  Dean fights and sacrifices for others because that’s who he is, the very essence of Dean Winchester.  He is fearless and loyal to a fault, and he’s fallen over and over again.  And every time, every single time he’s fallen, it’s been because he either chose to fall to save someone else, or because someone let him down or betrayed him.  In all his life, there is no one, not one single person, who has consistently stood at his side.  Not his friends.  Not his brother.  Not even me.” The blue eyes moved down, shame shining from their depths.  “I betrayed Dean, and it cost everyone, Dean, Sam, myself, the world, even the other angels so much more than I can ever repay!  But my brothers were right.  They told me once that every time I have had to make a choice between Heaven and the Winchesters, I have always chosen the Winchesters.  I’ve always chosen Dean!”

            “Do you love him, Castiel?” Adam asked softly.

            The blue eyes closed.  “Yes,” he said.  “Maybe it’s because I’ve spent so long in this vessel that sometimes I feel more like a human than an angel.  Maybe it’s just that my brothers have cast me out and Dean is all I have left to cling to. But I do love him.  I love him as no angel should love a mortal man.  And I find I understand him more, my Righteous Man, because I understand why he does what he does.  We were both created to be soldiers, to follow orders and be dutiful sons, only to be abandoned by our fathers.  We both found ourselves lost and leaderless, looking for someone to believe in or a cause to follow, only to be betrayed time and time again.  And perhaps most importantly, we both have come to care so deeply about others that we are willing to risk anything for them, make any sacrifice.  I understand Dean.  And I love him, Adam.  I love him.”

            “Then tell him!” Adam urged.

            Castiel scoffed.  “Dean isn’t Blake, Adam.  He’s not that strong.”

            “Your Dean hunts monsters, but you don’t think he’s strong enough to acknowledge his own feelings?”

            “That’s Dean, right down to the freckles on his nose,” Castiel sighed.  “He’d rather face all the demons of Hell than his own emotions!  That’s why it won’t work, Adam.  And if I told him, it would just ruin what we already have between us. I can’t take that chance!”

            “Not even for a chance for you both to be happy?”

            “The opposite is true,” Castiel retorted.  “If I never tell him, that’s pretty much the only way we can both be happy!”

            “Sorry buddy, but I’m going to have to call you a liar here,” Adam declared.  “Because you’re anything but happy!  Do you honestly think Dean is?”

            That silenced the angel.

            “You gotta tell him, Castiel,” Adam urged. “Believe me, I know how it feels to sit back and love someone from afar.  It tears you up inside, alright?  The stupidest, bravest, craziest thing I ever did was tell Blake my true feelings for him.  And the first thing that bastard did was let me down.  He cursed me, threw me out.  Then he went running right into the arms of someone else.  That crushed me, I won’t lie.  Nothing tears you apart more than watching the one you love desperately seeking love everywhere else but with you.”

            “Yes!” Castiel agreed.  His eyes were bright and he was nodding.  “Yes, that’s it exactly!  I think, deep down, all Dean really wants is to be loved.  He needs someone to love him enough to stand at his side.  I would do that, Adam.  If he would only have me, I would stay with my Righteous Man until the end of time!” His face fell and his shoulders slumped. “But I lost my chance, if I ever had one.  If I hadn’t betrayed Dean, hadn’t lied to him the way I did when I was trying to defeat Raphael and made a deal with Crowley?  Then I may have been able to tell him how I felt and perhaps even win his love in return. But I did betray Dean.  And the look on his face when he realized it, the way he stared at me when they trapped me and confronted me with the truth of what I’d done…?”  Castiel’s handsome face twisted into a grimace of pain.  “I’ll never forget the way Dean looked, the pain in his eyes as he looked at me.  And neither will he.  It’s too much to forgive, Adam!  My Righteous Man is the strongest man I have ever known.  But not even he is that strong.”

            Adam’s fingers had started moving once more on the strings of the guitar.  Castiel went silent, seeming to listen to the music.  Adam watched the angel as he sank to a seated position against the wall, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes on Adam’s guitar.  “You said you’d give anything for Dean,” Adam said, still playing as he considered his words.  “Would you give him the chance to love you in return?”

            Castiel seemed startled.  “Dean would never love me,” he said.  “It’s like I told you.  That kind of strength is something he just doesn’t have.”

            “I think you’d be surprised at how strong some people really are,” Adam said softly.  “You’ve been fighting for a long time, Castiel, and so has Dean.  But sometimes, the only way to win the fight is to know when to stop fighting.  I get it. I put my heart into Blake’s hands and he dashed it to pieces.  It took him a long time to find the strength to admit to himself how he really felt about me.  And while I’ve never been to literal Hell, it was hell on Earth for me to watch him make mistake after mistake with people I knew would never love him the way I did. But I’d do it all again if it would bring Blake back here right now!  Would you, Castiel?”

            Castiel only nodded.

            Adam kept playing, watching the angel.  Then he began to quietly sing.  _“As I rest against this cold, hard wall, will you pass me by?  Will you criticize me as I sit and cry?  I had fought so hard and thought that all my battles had been won, only to find the war has just begun.  Is he not strong enough?  Is he not pure enough, to break me, pour me out, and start again?  Is he not brave enough to take one chance on me? Please can I have one chance to start again?”_

            Adam saw Castiel stir, saw his eyes widen. His eyes were locked on Adam now, his full attention focused like a laser.

            _“Will my weakness for an hour make me suffer for a lifetime?  Is there any way to be made whole again?  If I'm healed, renewed and find forgiveness and find the strength I've never had will my scars forever ruin all God's plan?  Is he not strong enough?  Is he not pure enough to break me, pour me out, and start again?  Is he not brave enough to take one chance on me? Please can I have one chance to start again?”_

            Adam suddenly couldn’t bear the look of pain on his angel’s face.  He shifted a bit, moving into the bridge.  _“He took my life into his hands and turned it all around.  In my most desperate circumstance, it's there I finally found that you are strong enough! That you are pure enough to break me, pour me out and start again!  That you are brave enough to take one chance on me!  Oh thank you for my chance to start again!”_

            Of course Adam had no way of knowing if the happy ending his song predicted would come to pass.  But Castiel had such blind faith in his Righteous Man that it was hard not to believe.  At any rate, Castiel’s blue eyes were hopeful as he looked at Adam.  “Do you really think so?” he asked.

            Adam smiled.  “Worth a try, isn’t it?”

            Castiel smiled back.  “Absolutely!”  His smile faltered.  “How do I tell him, Adam?”

            “Well,” Adam mused, “if he’s anything like Blake, you can’t really beat around the bush.  Be direct.  Tell him you have feelings for him.  Hell, plant one on him if you want!”

            “Plant what on him?  I don’t understand what plants have to do with…”

            “A kiss, Castiel,” Adam explained patiently. “Give him a big wet kiss on the mouth, and put everything you’re feeling for him into it!  If that doesn’t get his attention and let him know you’re interested, nothing will!  And after that?”  He shrugged. “After that, it’s up to him.  But you’ll have taken the chance.  Even if he rejects you, it’s more than you had before because he’ll know, buddy.  He’ll know how you feel, and that will make him look at you in a different way. That’s the only way you’ll ever have a chance with him!  If you do nothing?  You’ll never have that chance!  And trust me, that hurts worst of all!”

            Castiel looked thoughtful.  He glanced at Adam and gave him a small smile.  “Thank you.”

            Adam smiled back.  “Don’t mention it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun liked Castiel’s theme. Said it was a good song. Remembers now about what happened at around this point in the other world and understands now why Castiel did what he did! Says that's just friggin' funny as hell. "Way to go, dumbass!"
> 
> Song Adam sings, main theme for Castiel here, is "Strong Enough" by Stacie Orrico  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FsWnXKmTmv4
> 
> Trivia Time!  
> This is the moment that Castiel referred to, when he betrayed Dean. Not easy to watch! The looks on both of their faces when Dean walks away at the end are especially heartbreaking.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2gsJ1iOea6w


	15. A Little Bit Of Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's job of guarding Adam's body becomes considerably more difficult when Adam suddenly is no longer Adam!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time I couldn't find pictures that illustrated the story and still mostly matched. Poop. Sorry if it detracts!

            It happened when the band had finished with their first show and was traveling to the next one.  They were stopped at a hotel and everyone was in Adam’s room.  The band was looking a little rough after a long day, but needed to unwind.

            They had succeeded in teaching Castiel how to play Texas Hold ‘Em. Castiel had quickly discovered he wasn’t very good at it.  Adam informed him he had a terrible poker face.  Every time someone called someone else out on bluffing, it was a surprise. And the one time he’d accused Jesse of bluffing, Jesse wasn’t.  The band had gleefully informed Castiel that he’d already lost the amount of his first paycheck and now owed them for the work he was doing as a bodyguard. Castiel wasn’t sure what he thought about that.

            “Don’t worry,” Matt assured him.  “We’ll just find you some extra work on the side.  You could carry equipment, push a broom…”

            Everyone laughed except Castiel.  Apparently, his duties had just been greatly extended.  He frowned.  “Perhaps it’s wise if I no longer play?”

            That was met by a general chorus of disapproval.  Castiel reluctantly played another hand.  This time, Adam, as the front man put it, “cleaned house,” winning a substantial pot.  Castiel watched unhappily as more of his chips were taken away.  He frowned, calculating.  At this rate, he’d have to do extra work on the side around the clock. That would make finding time to guard Adam’s body difficult.  Perhaps he could talk to Adam, negotiate some sort of payment plan?

            But then he sensed a change, and forgot all about his financial woes.

            One moment, Adam was sitting next to Castiel at the table, mocking everyone while scooping chips, winking, dodging thrown items and blowing kisses at his disgusted bandmates.  And the next, he was gone.  Later, Castiel realized that he was the only one who’d recognized anything had changed about his friend.  When the band discussed the incident afterwards, none of them had noticed any change at all.

            That certainly explained why they’d reacted the way they had when Castiel had immediately attacked the intruder in Adam’s body.

            The angel had realized it the moment Adam vanished and had been replaced by a stranger.  Castiel’s first thought, when he grabbed the intruder and dragged him from his chair, was that Adam had somehow been instantly possessed by a demon.  But demons were recognizable to any angel, no matter what body they were in.  Whatever was in Adam, it was no demon.  Castiel wasn’t sure what this was.  All he knew was that it wasn’t Adam.  That was all that mattered. 

            He held the intruder fast against the wall.  Castiel’s blade was in his hand, pressing against the intruder’s throat, oblivious to the surprised band shouting his name.  “Who are you?” he snarled.  “And what have you done with Adam?!”

            The intruder gave a dismayed squeak.  The hazel eyes grew wide with fright, and his hands shot up in surrender. “Shit!  _Shit!_   Dude, Cass, don’t fucking kill me, man!  I’m Adam Levine!”

            Wrong thing to say.  Castiel’s blade pressed a bit harder, causing a small bead of blood to well up on the intruder’s throat.  He narrowed his eyes.  “You know who I am?” he asked.  “I don’t know who you are.  But I am one hundred percent positive that you are _not_ Adam Levine!  I guard his body, and you do not belong in it!  That means you need to get out of it!  Now!”

            Somehow, the man’s eyes grew even wider.  And then he started wailing.  “Fuuuuuuck! Sam, get me the fuck out of here, Cass is fucking crazy!  I don’t give my consent anymore!  Send me back! This fucking angel is gonna fucking kill me!  _Sam!_   For fuck’s sake, send me back send me back sendmebacksendmebacksendmebackfucking _sendmeback!”_

__

            The band sounded like they were in a panic.  They’d all gotten up and had run over, yelling Castiel’s name.  But for some reason, they were all going after Castiel, rather than his prisoner.  They weren’t attacking him, but they did seem to be trying to restrain him.  At least three had him around the middle.  He had one dragging on each of his arms, and Jesse had managed to shove himself in between Castiel and the intruder and was pushing on Castiel’s chest.  “Come on, man!” Jesse yelled.  “What the hell’s gotten into you?  It’s _Adam!”_

            “It’s not,” Castiel snarled.  “But it is in Adam’s body!  I’m his bodyguard, why are you trying to keep me from doing my job?”

            But the band didn’t seem to understand.  They were all struggling with him now, pleading with him to let go. Fine.  He let go of the intruder, replaced his blade, and let himself be pulled back.  Then he calmly threw all six members of the band behind him and brought his Grace into play, letting it blaze in his eyes as he opened his wings and raised a threatening hand.  “Leave him,” he ordered the terrified invader, “or I’ll _burn_ you out!”

            The intruder had sunk to the floor and curled up into a ball, sobbing.  “I’m Adam Levine!” he squeaked.  “From your world!  Cass, I’m a country singer!  Please, dude! Sam sent me here, Sam Winchester! I’ve got a message from Blake! Come on, Cass, stop!”

            “What?”  Castiel sucked in his breath, the words finally sinking in.

            “I’m just a messenger!” the intruder repeated.  “Don’t smite me!  Holy fuck, those guys are fucking crazy wanting you back, do they actually know what you fucking _are?!”_

            “What about a message?” Castiel demanded.  He grabbed the man’s arm, pulling him to his feet.  “Talk!  What message!”

            “The park!  The park where Blake Williams proposed to his husband…”

            “Who’s Blake Williams?”

            “Adam’s husband!  The park where Bake proposed to him, at 9pm on the full moon!  You gotta cast the spell there, dude!  To send you back, and get Blake over here?  Come on, Cass, don’t kill me!”

            Castiel blinked, and finally understood.  They’d done it.  Somehow, someway, Sam and Dean had found the answer that had eluded him.  And they’d used Adam to do it!  Human ingenuity never ceased to amaze him.  Castiel smiled, pulled back his Grace and closed his wings.  Behind him, he could hear sobbing, loud praying, and someone chanting “holy shit!” repeatedly.  But Castiel had eyes only for the intruder.  He let the man go and took a step back, holding up his hands in supplication.  “Sam and Dean sent you?”

            “Yeah, man!  Sam and Dean Winchester, right!”  Wild-eyed hope filled the intruder’s eyes.  “Don’t kill me, Cass!  Other me will be pissed if you kill me or turn me into a pillar of salt!  He will!  I’ll only be here for a little bit, and then I’ll go back and other me will come back here!  It’s still his body, right?  If you smite me, you’ll smite him, and…”

            “I’m not going to smite you.”  Castiel’s thoughts were a blur as he eyed Levine.  “The park where Blake proposed to Adam at 9pm?”

            “On the full moon!” Levine insisted.  He was much calmer now, but his face was still quite pale.  “You gotta cast your spell at the same place at the same time as they cast theirs for it to work.  Then you can get back to your friends and maybe not be such a homicidal maniac?  Holy shit, dude, do you need laid, or what?  I thought you were about to go Biblical on my ass!”

            “I was,” Castiel informed him.  “If you had refused to leave my friend’s body, I had every intention of burning you out of it.”

            Levine’s eyes went wide again.

            The band was back up, gathering around Castiel and Levine.  A couple had various items they’d grabbed to use as weapons. Castiel had no idea who they planned to use the weapons on.  But his mind was elsewhere now.  He had, he’d realized, a unique opportunity.  He couldn’t hesitate to take advantage of it now.  “The hex bag,” he said.  “The one that sent Blake to your world.  Where is it?”

            “Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Levine declared.  “No one said anything about a hex bag!  They said they have a link back here, but they need a power source!”

            “That actually answers my question, unfortunately,” Castiel sighed.  “If they need a power source, that means the hex bag is damaged or destroyed.  Not good.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need you to take back a couple of messages,” he told Levine.  “Well, two messages, and a gift.  Will you do that?”

            “Dude I can take a message, sure, but my soul is swapping, not my body,” Levine pointed out.  “I can’t take anything…  Yeah, whatever you say, don’t go all avenging angel on me again, ok?” he redacted, noting the look on Castiel’s face.

            “The messages first,” Castiel began.  “I haven’t been honest with Sam and Dean.  When I came over to this world, I knew that not even the hex bag would be powerful enough to bring me back.  Rowena…”  He paused, noting the glazed look in Levine’s eye.  “Tell Blake his soul isn’t intact,” he said simply.  “And tell Sam and Dean that he’ll only get worse!  Blake won’t make it to the full moon without help! They need to go to Crowley, he can help. Tell them to make a deal if they have to.  They don’t have time to find another option!  Blake needs help, and he needs it fast, and that’s the only way he’ll get it!  Will you tell them that?”

            “Wait, what?”  Levine was shaking his head.  “I’m sorry, this is all still just a little overwhelming!”

            Castiel breathed through his nose.  He was dealing with a distraught, overly-excited human.  His messages all needed to be as simple as possible. “Tell Blake his soul isn’t intact, and they need to make a deal to help him,” he told Levine.  “Will you do that?”

            “Sure, dude.”

            “And as to the gift?”

            “Yeah?”

            Castiel licked his lips and waved Levine over.  “Come here.”

            Levine reluctantly stepped closer.

            Adam had told Castiel what he should do when he next saw Dean, the one sure way he could let his Righteous Man know exactly how he felt.  Castiel wasn’t a virgin.  He’d lost that to a woman who didn’t mean anything at all to him.  Dean was different.  And Adam, Castiel decided, was right.  There was really only one way to show Dean how he felt.

            Castiel’s standards for physical affection came from two sources – his lone sexual encounter, and the Pizza Man porno he’d watched once.  Sam and Dean had been upset he was watching it, for some reason, especially when his vessel experienced what seemed to Castiel to be a perfectly reasonable physical response to it.  Even Samuel Campbell, whose age and experience should have helped him understand that, had completely disapproved.  But when the demon Meg had kissed him, Castiel’s knowledge of the Pizza Man’s kissing technique with the Babysitter had certainly impressed her when he’d kissed her back.  Meg, despite being a demon, was the only other being in Castiel’s life he’d ever experienced feelings for that were similar to what he felt for Dean.  Still, it wasn’t the Pizza Man or even Meg that Castiel thought of when he grabbed Levine.

            All Castiel thought of was Dean.  His mind brought up every memory he had of green eyes and cocky grins, of a bow-legged walk and hunched shoulders.  He heard Dean’s laughter as if his Righteous Man was right in the room. The way Dean smiled.  How he looked when he was happy, or angry, or hurt. The way his long lashes rested on his cheeks when he slept, unaware of just how many times Castiel had watched over him, guarded Dean through his troubled dreams.  And when Castiel kissed the startled, struggling, protesting intruder in Adam’s body, it was his feelings for Dean, feelings no angel should have ever had for a human, that deepened the kiss and made it real, sweet, and completely Castiel’s own.

            When Castiel pulled away, Levine looked dazed.  He swayed a bit, clutching to Castiel’s arms.  “Give Dean that,” Castiel ordered.  “The way I did it.”  He gave Levine a shake.  “Promise me you’ll give it to him!”

            “Alright!  I promise! Holy shit, dude!”

            Castiel nodded, satisfied.  Then he steered Levine back, past the stunned band to push him back into Adam’s chair. “Just rest here now,” he advised.

            Levine looked at him with wide, frightened eyes.  “W-what are you going to do to me, Cass?”

            “Nothing.”  Castiel gave the man’s arm a gentle squeeze.  “I’m sorry I attacked you, but I didn’t understand what was happening.”

            “Dammit, Cass!” Levine snapped.  “You…”

            Immediate, loud protests from the band.

            “Don’t say that!  It’s disrespectful to angel kind!”

            “Yeah it’s insulting!”

            “And stop shortening his name!”

            “That’s right!  He’s an angel, show some respect!”

            “Call him ‘Cass’ again and I’m gonna kick your ass!”

            “Gentlemen?” Castiel called with a sigh.  “I think perhaps we should all give Mr. Levine some space?”

            Levine eyed the scowling, threatening band members and swallowed hard. “What are you, some kind of biker gang? Is everyone in this world this prone to violence?!” he wondered.  “Please send me back!”

            “This spell can’t last much longer,” Castiel announced.  “You’ll be going back any moment.”

            “So… That really isn’t Adam, is it?” Jesse had ventured closer and was peering at Levine.  “It looks just like him!”

            “It is Adam Levine, but it’s not the one you know,” Castiel explained patiently. He knelt down next to Levine and put a hand on his shoulder, preparing.  “This is Adam Levine from my world.  I suspect that means our version is in mine.”

            Jesse sucked in his breath.  “With Blake?”

            “Correct.  I believe Mr. Levine here will be leaving us at any moment...  And now he’s gone.  Adam? Welcome home.”

            Adam let out a heartbroken wail and fell, collapsing forward.  Castiel quickly caught him, drawing him into a close hug. “I’ve got you,” he soothed.

            Adam clung to Castiel’s neck, sobbing into the angel’s shoulder.  “I s-saw him,” he cried.  “I saw B-B-Blake!”

            “I know.”  Castiel scooped Adam up into his arms and carried him back to his bed.

            Adam didn’t say a word.  He clung to Castel, letting the angel carry him.  Then he lay limply in his bed where Castiel put him down.  Tears were streaming down his cheeks.  “I miss him,” Adam said softly.

            “I know.  Adam, did Sam and Dean say anything?”

            “Nine pm on the night of the full moon, in the park where Blake proposed,” Adam recited dully.  “And the King of Hell wants to come here.”

            Castiel blinked.  “Here? To this universe?”

            Adam nodded.

            “That’s a problem.”  Castiel frowned.  “Now we need to find hunters in this world more than ever!”

            “And you don’t need to worry about finding a way to connect to your world,” Adam said.  His eyes were dull, staring.  “You can link to your Righteous Man the same way I’m linking with Blake.”

            Castiel paused.  “Will Dean do that?  Can he?”

            “Blake’s there, buddy.  If anyone can get through to him...”  Adam suddenly went silent.  More silent tears streaked his cheeks.

            Castiel nodded.  “Rest now, Adam.  You did well.”

            Adam didn’t respond.  For some time, he simply lay there, clutching to Castiel’s hand.  And then the light seemed to go out of Adam’s eyes.  They fluttered closed, and almost instantly, he was in a deep sleep.

            Castiel heard a noise and glanced back to find the band crowded near. “Don’t worry,” he called.  “I expected this.  Transferring souls like that, it’s exhausting.  He’ll sleep for a while.”  He gently pulled a blanket to cover Adam.  Then he fondly brushed a hand over the singer’s hair and smiled.

            “What’s wrong with Blake, Castiel?”

            Castiel wasn’t sure who’d spoken, but it didn’t matter.  He froze, closed his eyes.  “I promise I’ll tell you everything, but not until Adam wakes up. He needs to hear this.”

            “Why hasn’t he heard it before?”

            “If something’s wrong with Blake, you should have told him!”

            “Yeah, man, he had a right to know!”

            “Why?”  Castiel got up and turned to face the solemn group.  “Would it have done either of them any good to know?  Don’t you think Adam is suffering enough without knowing how little time Blake really has left?”

            The group exchanged glances.  Then PJ stepped forward.  “You’re an angel,” he began.  “I really believe, in my heart, that if you’re not Cassiel, you’re a version of him. That means your job is to provide comfort.  So I get that you don’t want to hurt Adam.  But Castiel, we care about Blake, too!  Adam doesn’t know something’s wrong with Blake, but now we all do.  So please tell us.  What is it?  What’s wrong?”

            Castiel looked back at Adam, who was in a deep sleep.  Then he got up and moved back into the main room.  There, he indicated the table.  “Sit down,” he said.  “And I’ll tell you.”

            The band quickly filed in.  Castiel waited until everyone was seated before speaking.  “Do you know,” he began, “how I came to be here, in this world?” Seeing heads nodding, he continued. “When I pushed the efreet back into the underworld, I knew it would fight me.  And crossing the barrier between planes of existence is risky. That’s why I used a magical object, a hex bag with a powerful spell, to link myself back to my own world, just in case something like this happened.  But it’s extremely difficult to travel between realities!  The spell on the bag needed far more power than the bag itself could provide.  So, as part of the deal I made with Crowley, I had Rowena put an object into the bag with another spell on it.  A draining spell.  The idea was that it would tap into my Grace, use my power to supplement its own so that I could activate the main spell, use it to return to my own world.  And if, for whatever reason it couldn’t return me, it would continue to work until it recharged the bag for a new attempt.  But when I cast the return spell, Blake had the hex bag, so…”  He shook his head.  “The initial return trip would have been somewhat difficult.  I had the bag when I arrived, so that first trip mostly drained me. But I imagine Blake felt fairly rough when he arrived in my world!  Because the nature of that supplemental spell, the continued effect?  That’s the real problem.  You see, we had no way to know where I’d end up, or how difficult it would be to return.  So if I found myself trapped in another universe and the spell didn’t work or the bag didn’t have enough power to return me?  The spell was designed to continue to draw on my Grace until the bag had enough to activate the return spell.”

            “So, it’s still draining you?”

            “No,” Castiel said simply.  “It’s from my world, and that’s where it still is.  It has no connection to me.  And that’s the problem!  I made a mistake.  That spell was never connected specifically to me.  It was connected to whoever held the hex bag when the return spell was cast! That’s what activated it, the holder of the bag entering the wrong universe.  As soon as Blake arrived in my universe, it would have latched onto him and started draining him.  I imagine the initial connection would have been a jolt all by itself.  But he would have recovered quickly enough.  The problem is that the wording of the spell guaranteed that the draining spell would continue to draw power until the person who held the bag could be returned home.  That means it will keep drawing on Blake until he returns!”

            Six solemn faces looked back at him.

            “Well...  That’s good, right?” Sam ventured.  “I mean, if all he’s got to do is just wait for the bag to recharge...?”

            “No, you don’t understand,” Castiel corrected.  “If it was me, yes, it would be good.  I could just let the bag passively recharge itself and then use it to return me.  But that bag is an anchor to _my_ world, not this one!  Blake couldn’t use it to return here, no matter how much power it collected!  But it won’t matter.  As long as the person who was holding the hex bag when the spell was cast remains in the wrong universe, the draining spell will continue to drain that person of power.  But Blake isn’t an angel!  He has no Grace for it to draw on, but it’s still going to use him to feed itself power!”

            The group exchanged glances.  “So, what’s it drawing on, then?” PJ finally asked.

            Castiel grimaced.  “Blake’s soul.  The hex bag is leeching power from Blake’s soul, at a rate far faster than Blake will be able to recover from.  And it will continue to do so until the spell is broken or Blake comes home.”

            “Dammit, Castiel!  Sorry, disrespectful, and I don’t mean to be!” James corrected quickly as he got some angry glares from his bandmates.  “But seriously, man!  Why the hell didn’t you tell Other Adam to tell Blake to drop the stupid bag?!”

            “It’s not that easy.  Blake was holding the hex bag in his hand when he went through, so it connected to him. It doesn’t need continued contact or even proximity to continue to drain him.  Even if the bag’s destroyed, the draining spell is linked to an item inside of it, a coin.  The coin carried the spell and processes the power it drains, but stopping the spell isn’t as simple as destroying the coin!  Spells aren’t intelligent.  Its sole purpose is to draw power, so that’s what it’s doing.  It will keep draining Blake’s soul, siphoning power through that coin into the hex bag, until Blake comes home or there’s no more power to drain. A soul does have a great deal of power, but it’s finite.  If the spell continues to drain him, eventually that power will run out!”

            “So what’s that mean?” Sam wanted to know.  “What’s happening to Blake?”

            “He’s dying,” Castiel said simply.  “The energy being drained from Blake’s soul is the very same energy that keeps him alive.  I’ve no way to tell how long he’s got left.  But unless he gets some help, he won’t survive to the full moon!  I’m sure of that!”

            Silence.  Pale faces stared in shock at Castiel.  He shook his head.  “See, this is why I didn’t tell Adam, why I didn’t tell anyone!  There’s nothing you can do to help him except exactly what we’re doing.  That’s why I’m willing to trap myself here to return Blake, and why I just told my friends to make a deal with the King of Hell for a way to help him!”  He sighed.  “There’s nothing more we can do for Blake.  That’s up to Sam and Dean.  I believe that they’ll find some way to help him.  But unless we make this spell work the night of the full moon?  Blake Shelton is going to die in my world!”

            “Adam needs to know,” Jesse announced.  “I’ll tell him.”

            “If that’s what you believe is best,” Castiel grumbled.  Then he looked up in surprise as several of them lunged forward to take hold of him.  And before he knew it, all six were clinging to him.  He watched, amused, as all six took on expressions of relief.  When they let him go, he shook his head and smiled. “Oh my Dad!” he chuckled.  “Humans!  I can’t believe that after all I’ve told you, you’re all still so convinced you can be comforted with a touch from an angel that touching me actually does comfort you!”

            “It’s true!”

            “You have that power, Castiel!”

            “You’re the light that drives out the darkness, man!”

            “Dude, that’s corny as hell!”

            “Yeah, seriously!  That sounds like one of Adam’s song lyrics he writes when he’s drunk.”

            “True, though.”

            “Which part?”

            “Both!”

            And in spite of everything, the group was laughing.  Then, to Castiel’s surprise, they were after him again, this time making him the center of a group hug.  Castiel’s expression softened.  “Thank you,” he said softly.  “I can’t believe you still trust me.”

            “You’re our bodyguard!”

            “Our guardian angel!”

            “You saved our lives, remember?”

            “That’s the worst of your secrets, though, right?  Nothing else you’re not telling us?”

            “No,” Castiel confirmed.  “That’s the worst of it.”

            “Castiel, can I ask a personal question?” Matt asked.  When the angel cocked an eyebrow at him, he asked, “How do we fix your wings?  If we all, like, pray for God to fix our angel, do you think…?”

            “I think that it was my arrogance and gullibility that got the wings burned off of all my brothers in the first place,” Castiel sighed.  “Consequently, I think I’m the last angel in this or any world who deserves such a miracle.”

            “Oh.”  Matt looked sadly at Castiel.  “That’s too bad.  They’re so amazing, all huge and black!  I would have loved to have seen them when they were white.”

            “Honestly, I don’t think he’s lost much,” James argued.  “When he said his wings were burned off, I was expecting something a lot worse, like, fried chicken wing bad, you know?  But his wings are so awesome, what does it matter if they have black feathers or white?  After all, the simple fact that we even got to see our angel like that, with his eyes glowing and his wings…”

            Something finally clicked for Castiel.  “Let me go!” he ordered, getting up.  The startled band immediately drew back.  Castiel opened his wings and stared, dumbfounded, at the full pinions.  “I don’t understand,” he said softly.  “The feathers were all burned off!  I’m not connected to Heaven here.  How? How could I be healed?”

            “Healed?!”

            “Like they never burned off!”  Castiel was running his fingers through the shadowy feathers.  “I don’t understand!”

            Loud whoops and cheers.  PJ looked enrapt, raising his hands towards heaven, his lips moving in silent prayer. Mickey was more vocal.  “Miracle!  A miracle for our angel!  See, we told you, Castiel!  We told you! You’re the real deal, man, even if you don’t believe it yourself!  You…” He broke off, frowning.  “Where’d he go?  Guys, where’s our angel?  Castiel?”

            “Castiel, where are you buddy?”

            “He just vanished!”

            “He was right there!”

            “Maybe he flew back to Heaven?”

            “I’m freaking out!”

            “Where could he be?”

            Castiel hadn’t gone anywhere.  He’d simply passed out of the range of human perception.  Dean called it “taking a knee.”  Castiel absolutely needed to take a knee.  The humans meant well, but they needed so much from him.  He needed time to adjust.  To comprehend the enormity, the sheer impossibility of what had happened to him.

_Metatron leaned over him, holding the vial to catch the spilled Grace that flowed like a river from Castiel’s slit throat.  The other angel had been smiling, mocking him, before he’d thrown Castiel down to the Earth.  Castiel had never felt so weak, so helpless, as he did that night.  He’d struggled to his feet, trapped in mortal form. And when the angels had begun to fall like fiery comets from the sky, their wings burning off as they tumbled to the Earth, he could do nothing but watch.  He’d been human then, trapped on the Earth, forced to scramble to survive, to find food and shelter even as he desperately sought for a way to return his Grace, to find a way to fight and try to undo what had been done.  And when he finally rose and spread his wings once more, the burned feathers had crumbled to dust, just as destroyed as the other angels.  His only thought was that it was fitting justice._

            Castiel had never known of any angel whose wings had been restored.  He didn’t understand what happened.  It wasn’t possible.  And yet, here he was, his wings were restored, his power undeniably enhanced.

            Something was wrong.  Something was terribly, horribly wrong.  And Castiel had no idea what it was, what he could do, or where he could turn.

            The band was still wondering where he’d gone.  They were frightened, needing him, calling out for “their” angel. Castiel found himself drawn to that need.  They were innocent, and suffering now because of him.  He wanted to be what they needed, to be their friend and guardian. But he couldn’t help them now.  He couldn’t be what they needed him to be, not when he himself had been so shaken.  He needed to go, to deal with his own desperate need before he could help them with theirs.

            He spread his wings.

            Kansas.  From the outside, from a human’s perspective, the Men of Letters’ bunker looked no different than any other half-buried old bomb shelter.  It looked abandoned, out in the middle of nowhere.  But to his eyes, it blazed with so much protection that not even he could enter.  Dean had to take off the angel warding for that to happen in his world.  But here was the same old warding that had been there since the bunker was constructed by the Men of Letters.  That offered some comfort.  No one had been able to breech it.  The knowledge it contained was still intact.  Castiel stood in the pouring rain, letting it pass through him as he watched, insubstantial, unaffected by the storm.  There was a metaphor in there somewhere.

            Why had he come here?  It was silly. The Winchesters weren’t here. They never were.  But his need, his longing, had been irresistible.

            _Dean._

            Castiel reached out, sending his call.  But the Dean of this world was unrecognizable to him.  Why would he be?  The two of them had never met!  His foolish, desperate call echoed through the night without ever finding the one being Castiel would have traded his newly-healed wings for.

            Dean, his Dean, wasn’t here.

            Castiel lingered all night at the bunker.  He watched as the storm finally faded, and then watched the familiar sight of the rising sun as he’d done a hundred times before, the rays slanting over the horizon to fall on the bunker.  But it was unlikely that anyone was inside of the bunker in this world. If Henry Winchester had still taken the key, he’d never given it to his grandsons.  Sam was a lawyer here, and Dean?  Where was Dean?

            Sam would know.  And he and Adam would visit him.  What would that be like, to look into Sam Winchester’s familiar green eyes and see no recognition?

            He’d soon find out.

            Castiel returned to the hotel.  The band was still in Adam’s room, sound asleep either crowded onto the furniture or, in Sam Farrar’s case, under the desk.  They looked troubled, as if their rest was anything but restful.  Castiel moved from man to man, experimentally touching each one.  And every time, the sleeper would immediately fall into a calm, relaxing sleep.  What did it mean?  He had no idea.

            Something was wrong with him.  That had never been more clear.

            Adam hadn’t moved from where Castiel had left him. Jesse, he was glad to see, had climbed in next to his friend, his arm protectively over Adam.  Castiel got a chair, pulled it next to the bed, and took Adam’s hand.  When Adam woke, Castiel resolved to be the one to tell him the truth about Blake. He owed Adam, and Blake, that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun said he’d figured out Cass’s wings were healed when he popped them open. Question is, how were they healed? Understands now why Country Adam was so scared!
> 
> Trivia Time!  
> This is the moment Castiel was thinking of:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VGK6uK9M3hs
> 
> And the moment the angels were cast out of heaven:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xh8fTudYhzU


	16. Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam awakens, and learns the consequences of Castiel's actions.

            Adam felt like he was waking from a bad hangover.  His head was throbbing.  He was dizzy, weak, and shaky.  At least his stomach wasn’t churning, though, and a moment later, his headache was gone.  But the other symptoms remained as he opened his eyes.

            He looked up at the roof of the tour bus.

            Nearby, he could hear the hushed voices of his band, interspersed with the low, gravely growl of his angel.  They all sounded upset.  Well, they could get in line.  _Blake._   Adam clenched his fists and focused on breathing through the pain.  He couldn’t keep falling apart like this.  He hadn’t been able to help himself when he’d suddenly, unexpectedly, found himself in that other world, looking into those beautiful sky blue eyes.  Nothing in the world could have kept him from pouncing on his husband.  He longed for Blake with every fiber of his being.  And when he was finally wrapped in his husband’s strong arms, he’d have given anything, anything at all, to stay.

            But he couldn’t stay.  The spell had carried him away like a leaf tossed on the wind, and once again, Blake was out of his reach.

            The familiar sound of his phone rang out.  He heard Mickey curse and immediately the phone was silenced. “Carson again,” he announced. “He’s called three times, our agent’s called seven times, and Adam’s mother has called twice.  This is bad, guys.  It must be all over!”

            “I don’t understand why we can’t just tell them the truth,” Castiel grumbled. “Adam didn’t consent, and I don’t care if people are angry at me.  But if this affects Adam the way you say it can?”

            “We can’t tell anyone, Castiel!” Jesse exclaimed.  “Even if there was a snowball’s chance in Hell of anyone believing us…”

            “Actually, a snowball might do fine in certain areas of Hell.  It’s not nearly as hot as most humans believe.  In fact…”

            “Castiel, you’re off subject again.”  James’s voice was gentle.  “What Jesse is saying is that even if we could convince people of the truth?  If you admit you did that to Adam without his consent, it means you assaulted him, ok?  You could get arrested…”

            “I’d love to see anyone try to arrest our angel!”

            “We can’t let him fight the police, are you crazy?”

            “The cops probably won’t bother him anyway.  It’s other assholes.”

            “Adam’s already got enough bullshit.  Now you know some of it will come after Castiel, too!”

            “Bring it on!”

            “Yeah, the seven of us can kick the ass of anyone who touches our angel!”

            “Wait, why are the seven of you trying to protect me?  I thought I was the bodyguard!”

            “You are, but that doesn’t mean we’re letting anyone mess with you, Castiel.”

            “Mess with our angel, and mess with all of us!”

            “Damned straight!  OW!”

            “Thank you for hitting him!”

            “Yeah, I couldn’t reach.”

            “I’ll hit him again if he does it again!  Would you stop being offensive to angel kind?!”

            “Yeah, what’s wrong with you?!”

            “Sorry.”

            Castiel cleared his throat.  “You realize the word ‘damned’ doesn’t actually offend me?”

            “It’s disrespectful to you as an angel!”

            “Yeah!”

            “Goes against everything you stand for!”

            “You should be offended!”

            “Totally!”

            “Oh.”  Now their angel sounded confused, and Adam smiled.

            Apparently, it was noticed.  “Hey, check it out!  Adam’s awake!”  There was a general rush of footsteps towards him.

            Adam blinked open his eyes and looked up into the ocean blue eyes of their angel.  Castiel had come close and was looking anxiously down at him, while the rest of the band hovered.  “Adam? How are you feeling?”

            “Pretty whipped, actually,” Adam confessed.  “But it’s getting better.  Don’t suppose you could heal me?”

            “What you’re feeling is a weakening of your soul,” Castiel explained.  “That isn’t something I can use my Grace to heal. You’ll recover quickly, so long as there’s no further strain on it.  Can you sit up?  You’ve been asleep all night and half the day, and we’re on our way to your concert.”

            Adam accepted Castiel’s assistance and sat up with a grunt.  He held to his angel, letting the wave of dizziness pass. For a moment, he stayed as he was, basking in the angel valium and the comforting presence of his friends.  Then he got a grip on Castiel’s shoulder with one hand and Jesse’s in the other and stood up.  “Hate to ask you this, guys, but could one of you help me into the bathroom? Once I’m in there, I’ll be fine to take care of business, but I’m a little wobbly getting in.”

            Jesse smiled.  “Of course. Nothing I haven’t done before, man, and at least this time you’re not drunk and throwing up everywhere!”

            Adam did his necessary.  The fact that the bus was in motion did nothing to assist his dizziness.  Adam lingered at the sink and splashed water on his face.  He glanced into his own bleary hazel eyes in the mirror.  Did his other self feel as bad as he did right now?  Probably.  Adam realized that he knew absolutely nothing about his double from Castiel’s world. Now he was with Blake.  Was he comforting Blake?  Would that be better or worse than Blake being alone?  Was his other self married to another version of Blake in that world, or was Blake alone?  The idea of Blake having no one to love him made his heart ache.  But even then, he jealously hoped that Other Adam had gone back to wherever he’d come from, away from his Blake.  If anyone was going to comfort Blake, Adam decided, he wanted it to be Castiel’s Righteous Man.  Even that tall guy with the gentle eyes…  On second thought, not him, Adam decided as he felt jealousy rise again.  Even knowing Blake had eyes for no other man but him, Adam couldn’t help but be acutely aware that his husband was currently with a pair of very attractive men.  Dean could comfort Blake just as Castiel was comforting Adam.  But throw Sam Winchester into the equation, and things got complicated.

            Sam Winchester.  They’d meet him tomorrow.  And now that he’d seen the man for himself in person, seen the kindness in his eyes, Adam had high hopes for his world’s version.  Dean, he wasn’t sure about.  Castiel’s soulmate had been gentle as well, it was true.  But the way he’d looked away when Blake suggested using his bond with Castiel to form the second half of the link between the two realities?  That was discouraging, and all too familiar.  Adam had seen that exact same look in Blake’s eyes the day he’d finally confessed his true feelings.  _Oh, Castiel!  You’re fighting the same battle for your Dean’s heart that I fought for Blake’s.  And you’re not even there to fight!_

            Blake would win Dean over.  He had to. They had no other choice.  If Dean and Castiel couldn’t reach out for each other the way that he and Blake did, they’d never get the gateway opened!  The idea of having to wait another month or even possibly longer for Dean to come around made Adam want to scream.  No, it would be alright.  Blake understood only too well.  If anyone could batter down the walls Dean might have erected around his heart, Blake was the one.

            Adam paused, frowning.  Blake hadn’t looked good.  He was sure that, living with monster hunters in another world, Blake was probably under an incredible amount of stress.  But Blake had been stressed before.  While he’d been living with Adam after his divorce, Blake had barely said two words for the first few days.  But even then, he’d never seen his big man look so exhausted, so drained, as he’d looked in that other world.

            No time to think about it now.  It was time to talk to his band.

            Adam cleaned himself up, brushed his teeth, attacked his stubble with the electric razor, and threw on some clean clothes someone had thoughtfully left for him in the bathroom.  He felt much better.  Adam wobbled out and took a seat at the table.  Someone had heated him up some soup.  Adam gratefully dug in, accepting oyster crackers and dumping them in. Then he polished off a glass of ice water.  The entire time, his band was eerily silent.  Castiel was the only one who would meet his eyes.  Not a good sign.  “Alright,” he called as he finished.  “First thing.  Castiel, I’m supposed to tell you that King of Hell guy?  He wants to come over here.  Did I tell you that last night?  It’s all kind of blurry at the end.”

            “You did.”  Castiel looked grave, while the band shifted uncomfortably.  “That’s why it’s more important than ever that we find hunters. We’ll have to warn them.”

            “We also have the time and location we need to cast our spell,” Adam continued.

            “Nine pm, night of the full moon, in the park where Blake proposed,” Castiel confirmed.  “Your other self told us that, too, so it’s set.  And you told me that Dean and I need to use our own connection to form the link, just as you and Blake are.”  Castiel looked away.  The blue eyes looked anything but hopeful.

            Adam nodded, pretending not to notice.  “Great!  Alright, that’s all the news I have, other than Blake is definitely with those brothers and they seem to be taking decent care of him.  And that’s all the more I really want to say.  Seeing him again was wonderful!  Being taken away again was horrible and I’d rather not think about it any longer.  Now.” He leaned back, making his gaze cool as he looked everyone over.  “Start talking.  What’s going on?”

            Castiel explained what was happening to Blake.  Adam listened, feeling a coldness settle in the pit of his stomach. “Blake looked awful when I saw him. I figured he was sick, but... Blake’s dying?” he asked in a small voice.

            Castiel looked grave and nodded.  “Yes, Adam, he is.  That’s why this is so important.  We have to get it right, and we’ve only got one chance!”

            Adam clenched his fists.  “And this is because of some coin thing in that hex bag?  It’s all back to that stupid fucking hex bag?!”

            “It’s all back to me, Adam.”  Castiel’s expression was solemn.  “I did this, never imagining what could happen if anyone other than me held the bag when the spell was cast.  And I didn’t tell Sam and Dean because I knew they’d be angry, feel that I’d taken too great of a risk.  And they’d be right!”  He shook his head.  “I did it because I thought I was clever.  I knew there was a chance I’d be injured if I ended up in another universe. I knew that it was possible I wouldn’t be able to cast the spell, that I might have to wait until the next full moon, and I wanted a failsafe.  But I never should have trusted Crowley and Rowena to provide it!  The fact is, I have no idea how hard that spell would have drawn on my Grace.  It might have drained me completely or destroyed me had it actually taken affect and affected me like it was designed to!  I never should have agreed to let Crowley and Rowena cast it without telling Sam and Dean, and now Blake’s paying the price for it!  This happened because I was careless, reckless, and arrogant. And I’ll accept the blame for it.”

            “Then you’ve got it, but I’m not angry,” Adam insisted.  “You couldn’t have known this would happen, any more than Blake could have known what that thing was when he found it in your pocket! So you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, alright?”  Adam cocked an eyebrow, seeing their angel’s blue eyes shift away.  “What else?” he demanded.  “There’s more going on.  Just tell me, alright?”

            For a moment, Adam thought his angel would refuse to answer.  Then his shoulders sagged.  “Blake…  He won’t make it until the full moon.  That’s why it’s still so important we find Sam Winchester and hunters.  We need that communication spell that Sam and Dean used on you, Adam, so we can talk to them!  I told your other self that Blake’s soul wasn’t intact, but he was so afraid and confused! It was obvious he knew nothing at all about magic or anything I could use, so the messages I could pass back to the Winchesters through him were very limited.   Sam’s smart, a true legacy to the Men of Letters.  If Levine tells him that Blake’s soul isn’t intact and that he needs to go to Crowley?  Hopefully… Hopefully it will be enough.  But I don’t know, Adam.”

            “What do you think?”

            Castiel rolled his lips into his mouth and stared hard at the table.  “No,” he confessed.  “No, Adam, I don’t think it will be enough.  The Winchesters have no idea what I’ve done.  They won’t know what to ask Crowley for, and that means Crowley will hold all the cards!  There’s no doubt in my mind he’ll take advantage of that.  Even if they find the draining symbol on the coin, they likely won’t understand what it is or why it’s affecting Blake.  If I don’t find a way to tell them the truth?  Blake won’t survive!”

            Adam felt cold.  He could tell without looking that the rest of his band was feeling just as sick as he was. They all loved Blake, after all. The idea that he’d die in another world was simply unthinkable.  “So we have more reasons now that we still need to find hunters,” Adam said aloud.

            “Now more than ever,” Castiel agreed.  “And we need the Winchesters, especially Sam!  If I could talk to Sam, I could tell him the specifics of what’s happening to Blake.  Then he can…”

            Sam Farrar took Castiel’s shoulder, and the angel looked up at him.  “What is specifically happening to Blake?” he asked. “I can start searching for a way to help him.”

            “I can help, too,” Mickey offered.  “I got friends that are seriously into the occult, and they got friends of their own that are into the really freaky shit.  But I didn’t want to mention it before, because I know what they’ll want in exchange for helping us.”

            “What will they want?” Adam asked.

            Mickey grimaced.  Then he looked apologetically at Castiel.  “If we let them have our angel, just for a little bit?  They’d do pretty much anything we asked!”

            Castiel’s eyebrows went up.  The rest of the band exchanged startled looks.  PJ immediately rose and put a hand on Castiel’s shoulders.  “What does that mean?” he challenged.  “Have our angel?  What would they want with him?”

            “He’s a supernatural being,” Mickey explained.  He was cringing, avoiding meeting Castiel’s eyes.  “They’d probably want something from him, a feather or two maybe, or…  I dunno! I don’t like the idea of those creeps touching our angel, but if they’re all we’ve got?”

            The angel’s eyes shifted in a way that Adam didn’t care for at all.  “If they’re witches, then of course they’d want to meet with me,” Castiel soothed.  “And it’s alright.  I’ll give them what they want if they can give us some real help.  If they’re genuine, then they’re exactly what we’re looking for.”

            Adam narrowed his eyes.  “Castiel?” he began.  “We’re being honest with each other, alright?  That’s why you told us what’s really wrong with Blake!  Don’t start hiding things from us now!  You suck at poker, man.  I can see you’re trying to bluff!”

            Castiel grimaced.  Then he sighed.  “I’m more than a supernatural being,” he admitted.  “I’m a supernatural being from another universe!  To anyone capable of accessing supernatural powers, I’m extremely valuable.  Any witch would view me as a prime source of spell components.  So yes.  These people Mickey mentioned would absolutely want something from me, as much as they could get!  And they can have it,” he called, raising his voice over the rising protests.  “We don’t have room to negotiate anymore. Blake is dying, and we’re running out of time to save him!  I already asked my friends to risk making a deal with Crowley to save Blake.  How can I do anything less?”

            “I won’t sacrifice you to save him!” Adam declared.  “There’s no way that I’m going to just stand back and let them tear you to pieces for spells, Castiel!  Blake wouldn’t want that, and he’d never forgive me!  I was crazy to think I could do it before.  Even then, I’d never let anyone hurt you!  I sure as hell won’t do it now.”

            “Amen, brother!” James called.  He and Adam shared a high-five.  “Castiel, we all appreciate that you’re ready to do what’s necessary to save Blake. But this whole self-sacrificing shtick you got going on?  That’s not gonna fly!”

            “You know it!”

            “What he said!”

            Castiel gritted his teeth and looked pleadingly at Adam.  “Adam, we do not have a choice!  What’s happening to Blake is my fault, and if there’s a price to be paid for helping him?  I’ll pay it!”

            “They’re not going to dissect him,” Mickey called, frowning.  “That was never even on the table, ok?!  What the hell do you guys think I am, that I’d even consider something like that?!  But if they just want, like I said, a feather or two, a lock of his hair, something like that?”

            Castiel nodded.  “As I said, I’m fine with it.  Whatever it takes.”

            “Those motherfuckers don’t get to hurt you!  They are not even touching you unless it’s right here in front of me!” PJ announced, gripping Castiel’s shoulders.  His eyes were hard.  “Matt, you with me?”

            “Fuck yeah!” Matt declared.  “I’ll bust their heads if they hurt so much as one feather on our angel!  Mickey, let them know that whatever they want, it’s gotta pass through us, we’re gonna be present for it, and Castiel has to agree to it. And it’s a one-time offer!  I won’t stand for them constantly coming after our angel for shit!”

            “And it’s going to be a time and place of our choosing,” PJ added. “Castiel, we got your back!”

            “All three of us have your back,” Mickey assured.  “No one is going to hurt you, or make you do anything you’re not willing to do!  And I’ll rip some cultist ass if they try it!”

            Adam smiled at the surprised expression on their angel’s face.  “Give them a call, Mickey.  You, PJ and Matt can watch over our angel, even though he clearly feels he’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself.”  He rubbed his hands over his face.  “I saw Blake, guys.  Saw him, touched him, kissed him…”

            “Yeah, that’s the other thing,” Jesse began.  “Adam, we’ve got another problem.”

            There were few words in the English language that could inspire more dread in Adam. He braced.  “What?”

            “He must have been in the building across the street,” Sam theorized.  He was looking down at his iPad as he spoke, avoiding meeting Adam’s gaze.  “Got the pictures through a telephoto lens.”

            “What pictures?” Adam wanted to know.  “What’s going on?”

            In answer, Adam’s tech man grimaced and handed his iPad to Adam. And there, in living color through the hotel room window, Adam saw himself.  Castiel was holding Adam, keeping Adam’s head still between his hands. Adam’s hands were against Castiel’s chest, and the two of them were very obviously in the middle of a passionate kiss. Adam stared.  “Seriously?  Some asshole made a photoshopped image of us kissing?!  What a douchebag!  I…” Then he paused, remembering what Sam had said about telephoto lenses.  That, and the way no one would meet his eyes, made him realize the impossible. He’d never, ever made out with their angel like this!  He’d never even consider doing such a thing!  But this picture…?  Adam’s eyes grew wide.   “What. The.  Fuck?!”

            “I’m sorry.”  Castiel looked miserable.  “You told me that the next time I saw Dean, I should let him know how I feel about him with a kiss.  So when my world’s version of you was here, and I had the opportunity to relay a message to Dean, well…”  He wilted. “I’m sorry, Adam.  I’ve made things so much more complicated now!”

            Adam was silent.  He scrolled down, seeing a second picture.  In this one, their angel was carrying Adam in his arms, Adam’s arms draped around Castiel’s neck, heading towards the bed that was barely visible in the background.  Adam groaned loudly.  “Ok, I remember this, a little, and I know it’s perfectly innocent, but combined with the other one?”  He glanced at the headline and rolled his eyes.  “‘Adam Levine and Mysterious Bodyguard Have Romantic Tryst While On Tour,’” he read.  “Now, isn’t that cute?”

            “No, Adam, it’s not cute,” Matt called without humor.  “There’s nothing cute about any of this.  It’s serious!  This is going to ramp up all those stupid rumors about you and our angel, get the cops sniffing after you again.  They still probably think you did something to Blake!”

            “I don’t get it!” Mickey complained.  “This whole thing, the only thing it can be is a smear campaign, specifically intended to ruin your reputation, Adam!”  He indicated the picture.  “Look, see this blur?  That’s my foot!  They cropped us out of this picture, Adam, to make it look like you two were alone in that room!  We were right there, and for most of the time, we were all six of us hanging on our angel because we couldn’t understand why he was attacking you!  Other you.  We thought it was you!  Moving on. The thing that confuses me the most? Castiel went full-on avenging angel on other you, Adam, before he, you know, kissed him!  It was simultaneously the most terrifying and amazing thing I have ever seen in all my life!  If this asshole wanted a money shot, one good picture of our angel with his wings out and his eyes glowing would have made him rich!  Hell, I’d have paid to see that!  So what the fuck is this?!  Why focus on the kiss when so much else happened that was way more newsworthy?  It doesn’t make any sense!”

            “Our phones have been ringing off the hook all morning,” Sam reported. “Apparently, the FBI’s out asking questions.  A couple of people got done with one set of agents and a second came through asking similar questions!  And they all want to know about our angel, Adam, and what your relationship with him is!”

            “I’ve been calling around,” Jesse said.  “Called your neighbors and such, and people have been talking to them, too. Your one neighbor said he saw someone in a van stop by your house and take your garbage.  These fuckers are going through your trash, Adam!  That means they’ve probably subpoenaed your phone records, too.  They’re digging through your life, trying to make a case against you!”

            “They’re probably following us,” Matt said, glancing back.

            “Of course they’re following us!” Mickey moaned.  “These assholes are going to be waiting for the two of you at the venue, Adam! Matt’s right.  There’s nothing cute about any of this.  It’s a serious issue, Adam!  And we seriously need to talk about what we’re going to do here. I’m not gonna lie, I’m worried, buddy. You walk out of this bus, and you’re going to end up arrested!”

            “They can’t arrest them,” James insisted.  “They can ask Adam and Castiel to come to the station to answer questions, but they don’t have to go and they don’t have to say anything.  What we need to do is to find a lawyer!”

            “In this world, Sam Winchester is a lawyer,” Castiel said quietly.

            Adam brightened.  “That’s right!  And he’s a criminal defense lawyer, too!  That’s perfect, and it gives us the perfect excuse to go talk to him.  We can even hire him, and get him and his brother to stay with us!  It would be ideal if we could have them both right here with us!”  He looked eagerly out the window.  “How far are we from the Kansas venue?”

            “About three more hours,” Sam reported.

            “Ok, here’s what we’ll do.  We’ll do the concert, and then we’ll go to find Winchester.  We need those two brothers now more than ever, especially Sam!” Adam’s eyes flicked to their angel. “We also need to sit down with Sam Winchester as a lawyer, and get our stories straight.  Because we need to talk to the FBI.  It’s not optional!  We keep ducking them, they’re only going to get more suspicious!”

            “True story,” Mickey grumbled.

            After that, conversation was minimal.  What little there was seemed forced, even as it was lighthearted.  But even that quickly faltered when the bus pulled into the venue and the word “Murderer” was seen, spray painted in blood red across the side of the concert hall.

            Adam looked out, seeing the picketers.  Along with the usual hate slogans, he could see signs reading “Justice for Blake” and “Celebrities are not above the law.”

            Castiel stood next to him, his blue eyes solemn as he took in the view outside. “I won’t let anyone attack you,” he said, “but I can’t protect you from this, Adam.  Are you certain you want to continue this concert?”

            “Yeah,” Adam said quickly.  “If I back off now, it only makes me look worse.  We have to just keep going, keep things as normal as possible.  It’s all we can do.”

            Castiel nodded.  “Alright.  Just stay close to me.”

            Adam had every intention of doing just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says spray painting the building is a douche move. Thinks it's smart to stay close to Castiel, they all should. Is not surprised they’re now in the tabloids. Thinks they used the picture of Castiel kissing Adam because it’s more believable. People would have thought the one with the angel wings was photoshopped.


	17. Sam Winchester, Attorney-At-Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Castiel go to meet Sam Winchester and try to convince him to help them

            Adam had taken the news about Blake far better than Castiel had expected him to.  As they waited backstage, Castiel had finally gotten a chance to ask him how he really felt about it in private.  “It can’t be changed,” Adam had declared.  “We needed to get Blake home anyway.  And we’ve already got a plan.  As soon as this concert’s over, we go find Sam Winchester.”

            That was a plan Castiel could get behind.  But he had serious reservations about Blake’s suggestion that he use his connection with Dean to match up with Blake and Adam, forming the link between the two worlds.  “I love Dean,” he confessed.  “But even if, deep down, he feels the same?  Getting him to acknowledge that will be difficult, at best. And if he doesn’t reach out for me with all he’s got, this won’t work!  We should keep looking for another way, Adam.”

            Adam had smiled.  “Don’t underestimate Blake!”

            “Don’t underestimate Dean!”  Castiel grumbled, scowling.

            “Blake is an Oklahoma mule!”

            “And Dean is a horse’s ass!”

            Adam laughed.  “We’ll keep looking for hunters,” he vowed.  “But I trust Blake.”

            “I’d prefer a way to confirm things, one way or another,” Castiel mused.  “But I suppose it won’t matter.  We have no other way to do this.  If Dean doesn’t reach for me, I’ll be trapped here.  At least we’ll get your husband safely home.”

            Adam winced.  “Not knowing is the worst part.”  He brightened.  “You could try to figure out that spell they used, send me back there?”

            The eagerness in Adam’s voice made Castiel smile even as he shook his head.  “That spell can only be cast one time on a set of matching souls.  We need another match if we want to communicate again.  And the Winchesters are the clear choice.  They’re right there with Blake!”

            “True.” Adam was disappointed and clearly trying to pretend he wasn’t.  “Both of them are right there, just like you said.”

            “Besides, I have no idea what that spell was,” Castiel admitted.  “We’ll need help finding it before we can cast it on anyone.  That means we need a witch, or at least some genuine spell books.”

            “And that means Mickey’s people, who might just want to dissect you!” Adam grumbled.

            “Or hunters,” Castiel insisted.  “And once again, the Winchesters are our best chance to find them.”

            “Winchesters it is!” Adam declared.  “Now come on.  We’ve got a concert to do.”

****

            Castiel was on high alert through the concert, and apparently, it showed.  Even the more enthusiastic young female fans seemed a bit subdued when he glowered at them. His reputation was starting to precede him.  Castiel took full advantage of that, keeping with Adam during the performance, discouraging anyone who got too enthusiastic with a harsh glare.  Maybe he was being a bit overprotective.  He didn’t care.  Anyone who tried to hurt Adam now was going to be very sorry.  Castiel was in no mood to be polite.

            Fortunately, the concert was blessedly uneventful, and over quickly.  Even now, he and Adam had some allies.  The security guards at the venue warned Castiel about a pair of police detectives that were waiting to intercept them back at the tour bus.  Adam immediately decided against speaking with them.  The band, naturally, was happy to help.  They clustered around the two detectives, loudly talking and doing what they could to impede their vision while Castiel snuck Adam out a service entrance.  There, a helpful stage hand was waiting to shuttle them to a rental company.  Adam thanked the man profusely, signed several items, and posed for pictures.  Then he quickly rented a car and soon, they were on their way.

            “So what do you think this guy will be like?” Adam asked as they drove.  “Hunter Sam seemed pretty cool, what little I saw of him.  I mean, we didn’t have a conversation or anything but he seemed, well, kind.  What are we going to do if this guy’s a complete douchebag?”

            “I imagine his personality won’t matter much, not for this spell,” Castiel considered.  “Still, Sam is Sam.  His history, possibly his upbringing, will be different and will play a role.  But the reason that spell worked at all when the Winchesters used it on you is because you and that other version of you are still one and the same.  That other Adam was absolutely you, as you would have been had you gone through the same experiences he had.”

            “Yeah, and I guess I was cool enough,” Adam mused. “I had some balls, at any rate, to let them send me off into another world with no warning like that.  Poor guy must have pissed his pants when you went all avenging angel on him!”

            “Oh, I’m sorry,” Castiel said humbly.  “That must have been terribly uncomfortable for you, to return in wet pants.  I hadn’t realized.”

            Adam chuckled.  “Metaphor, buddy.  My pants were dry, but that was probably more by virtue of having just taken a piss before that last hand than anything else.”

            “Oh.”  Castiel still didn’t understand, and for some reason, that made Adam laugh again.  At least his friend was relaxing.  It was good to hear Adam laugh.

            Of course, Adam brought up a valid point.  Castiel wasn’t sure exactly what to expect from this version of Sam.  During the drive to the law offices where Sam Winchester, attorney at law apparently worked, he tried to consider all the options.  Winchester would, of course, be different than the man he knew.  There was a chance those differences could be extreme.  Castiel found it difficult to imagine the lanky giant as anything but the sweet, caring, earnest man he’d known on his own world, but of course there was no way to tell.  Dean had never trusted or cared for lawyers, calling them “shysters.”  How much of that was real and how much was just Dean posturing to reassure the younger brother who had never been able to pursue his chosen career, Castiel had no way to know.

            He tried to plan his strategy.  Convincing Sam Winchester of who and what Castiel was shouldn’t be difficult.  The real problem would be Dean.  He was all too aware that chances were high Sam would be reluctant or unwilling to tell them where Dean was.  In that case, Castiel would have to be careful.  He would have to portray himself as powerful, but not dangerous. Sam would react badly to any perceived threat to Dean.  Perhaps he should step back, let Adam take the lead, and step in only if things seemed to be going poorly?  That was a good idea.  After all, Adam understood humans in general, and this world in particular, well.

            Then there was what Adam had described as “star power.”  Everywhere they went, Adam was given preferential treatment.  They’d been pampered at every stop, moved past a long line of weary travelers at the car rental, and were on their way faster than Castiel could have imagined.  Sam and Dean never would have gotten such prompt service.  Adam had explained that this was the benefit of fame.  People fell over themselves for a rock star like he was.  That was a factor Castiel hadn’t considered before today.  Perhaps this version of Sam Winchester would be the same?  It wasn’t too much of a stretch, Castiel reasoned.  When he’d had first been introduced to the younger Winchester in his own world, Sam had acted in a manner that Castiel had come to learn was called “star-struck.”  Sam had been stunned at Dean’s reaction to him and Uriel, and even more so once he understood that real angels acted nothing like most humans expected.  In fact, now that Castiel thought about it, simply meeting Adam might be overwhelming for the lawyer Winchester.  The reality of Castiel might be too much.  No, he decided, best he continue to play the role of bodyguard to Adam Levine, international superstar.  He’d be cool, calm, and silent.  And if Adam had any problems, Castiel could always step in.

            Castiel’s resolve lasted right up until Adam pulled into the parking lot for Winchester’s law offices.  And then the angel was out of the car while it was still in motion, oblivious to Adam’s cursing and the screech of brakes as he jogged towards a familiar, welcome sight.

            In the parking lot of the law office, Baby gleamed in the sun.  The Impala was, as usual, in pristine condition.  It had Kansas license plates, but the chrome still glinted the way it always had as Castiel traced a hand over it.  The interior was spotless.  And there, in front of the hood he’d spent hours staring over on long cross-country drives with the Winchesters, a sign bearing the words “Reserved for Sam Winchester, Attorney” removed whatever trace of doubt Castiel might have had left. “This is it,” Castiel called, seeing Adam coming up beside him.  “This is Dean’s Baby!  He’s here, Adam.  Dean must be here!  He’d never be separated from this car!”

            “Nice ride,” Adam commented.  “Déjà vu!”

            Castiel blinked.  “I’m sorry?”

            “Nothing, never mind.”  The hazel eyes lingered for a moment on the Impala.  Then they moved over the other reserved parking signs. “I’m not seeing Dean’s name, though?”

            Castiel chuckled.  “Dean is anything but stupid, but he’s no attorney,” he explained.  “Just like him to park in his brother’s spot, though! Of course, they may simply have driven to work together.  If Dean’s here, then he must work here in some capacity.  Janitorial, maybe, or support staff?”

            “Wouldn’t that mean he’s not a hunter?”  Adam’s hazel eyes were troubled.  “If they’re not hunters, how can they help us?”

            Castiel frowned for a moment.  But then he shook his head.  “Even if they’re not hunters, the Winchesters are resourceful.  And if Sam Winchester’s a criminal defense lawyer, he might be able to access information that Sam Farrar can’t reach. They can help us!  And of course, once we find that spell they used on you, we can use it to reach my Sam and Dean.  For that, we’ll need this version of them!”  He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, sending up a silent prayer of thanks.  “It’s all going to be fine now, Adam.  We’ll get the Winchesters of your world to help us, and we’ll get your Blake back. And then I’ll go home!”

            Adam’s smile was infectious.  He suddenly hugged Castiel tightly.  “I’m gonna miss you, buddy,” Adam announced.  “Thank you!  Sorry I stabbed you!”

            Castiel returned the hug, gently tapping on Adam’s back.  “It’s alright.”  He pushed the singer back and squeezed his shoulders, nodding.  “Let’s go.  It’s time to set things right.”

            Winchester’s law firm took up one office in a large building that also contained several other businesses.  Once again, Adam’s Star Power opened doors.  He’d called ahead, and the hallway was crowded with people anxiously waiting to see him.  Adam was immediately recognized.  Soon, the lobby was echoing with the high-pitched Fan Girl Screams Castiel was becoming all too accustomed to.  Then it was time to play bodyguard, glowering fiercely and pacing around Adam to keep back the crowd that quickly gathered.  Fortunately, Castiel’s reputation had granted him a form of Star Power of his own, which worked a bit to subdue the crowd as he and Adam headed to the law office.  The other partners were waiting, eager to shake Adam’s hand and welcome him.  And then finally, towering over the heads of the crowd, Castiel spotted a familiar, beloved and awe-struck face.

            Sam Winchester looked a little dazed.  He was dressed very much as he’d been in the advertisement for his law firm, in a suit and tie.  It was similar to what Sam and Dean had always referred to as “fed threads,” the suits they’d wear to impersonate FBI agents.  His hair was longer than it was in the ad they’d seen, probably matching the length of Sam’s hair in Castiel’s own world.  But it was immaculately groomed.  His entire appearance was neat and clean and professional, which Castiel couldn’t help but think of as wrong.  Other than this, the Sam Winchester of Adam’s world looked very much the same as he’d looked the last time Castiel saw his double in his own world. 

            Winchester wilted a bit under the bug-eyed stares of his partners, who were anxious to know what Adam’s visit was about.  But once Adam explained it was a private matter, he’d quickly led Adam and Castiel into his tiny, cluttered office.  A large family photo showing the lawyer with a lovely blonde woman and three smiling children dominated one wall.  More pictures decorated Winchester’s desk.  Two chairs sat in front of the desk, facing it.  And pretty much every other square inch of space was dominated by files.  Files cluttered Winchester’s desk, spilling out of his filing cabinet and overloaded boxes. Apparently, the lawyer was in demand. That might make it difficult for Adam to hire him away.  Castiel decided he’d leave that up to Adam.

            Winchester seemed embarrassed when he saw his visitors eyeing the office.  “I’m really sorry about the mess,” he apologized.  He scurried around, moving boxes and files this way and that. “We’re in the middle of a pretty big criminal case right now.  Even though I’m not lead defense, I’m the one they usually tap for research.  So I’ve been pretty busy!”  He gasped.  “Oh!  I never properly even introduced myself!” He danced around boxes of files and pumped Adam’s hand.  “I’m Sam Winchester, but apparently you know that.”

            “Adam Levine,” Adam responded.

            “Castiel,” Castiel said, shaking in turn.  “I’m his bodyguard.”

            Just as he’d known they would be, the familiar green eyes showed no trace of recognition.  Castiel couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain that this man he’d loved like a brother was a stranger here.  But Winchester’s smile only grew.  “It’s a pleasure!  It’s more than a pleasure, it’s an honor!  My wife will flip when she finds out!”  He indicated the chairs, smiling from ear to ear.  “Please, sit down.  Again, sorry about the mess.  I, um, knew you were coming but, well...”  He cleared his throat.  “I thought it was a joke.  Otherwise, I’d have cleaned up!”

            “It’s not a problem,” Adam said.  He sat down and shook his head, looking up at Winchester. “Holy shit, brother, you’re almost as tall as Blake, aren’t you?”

            Winchester’s eyes lit up.  “Blake Shelton?  I’m a huge fan of his!  A-and yours, of course, Mr. Levine.  My wife and I really enjoy both of you.  We follow you on Twitter, and I actually have your last album on the iPod in the car right now!”

            “You put an iPod in Baby?!” Castiel asked, incredulous.  He shook his head and tutted.  “I cannot wait to hear how you managed to talk Dean into that!”

            That earned him a surprised look.  “Excuse me?”

            “We’re actually here about both of you, you and your brother Dean,” Adam explained.  “We…”

            “Yes, where is he?” Castiel interrupted.  He couldn’t keep from peering out the window into the rest of the office, hoping to spot a familiar and much-missed face. “I assume he works here, maintenance or janitorial staff, perhaps?”  He gave Winchester a knowing smile.  “You know he parked in your parking spot?  I bet he does that all the time, doesn’t he?”

            “Uh…”  Winchester was eyeing Castiel with an odd look.  “No, Dean doesn’t work here.  May I ask how you knew about him?”  He frowned, looking rapidly between them.  “Or me, for that matter?  Our law firm isn’t exactly on the short list when celebrities go looking for legal representation!  So why did you specifically ask for me?  For that matter, how did you even find me?”

            Adam gave Castiel a slight kick as the angel opened his mouth to explain everything, and Castiel immediately went silent. “It’s kind of a long story that we don’t have time to explain right now,” Adam declared.  “Suffice to say, you and your brother may be able to help us with something vitally important.  And help is something we’re very much in need of right now!  I’m willing to pay for your services, of course, including a bonus if you’re willing to join us personally for a bit.  That offer is for both you and your brother, of course.”

            “We need you both,” Castiel insisted.

            Adam kicked him again.  “We’d _prefer_ to have you both, is what my bodyguard means,” he corrected.

            Winchester was much more reserved now.  Castiel could see the guarded look in his green eyes. He sat back in his chair and folded his hands on his desk.  “Listen, this is all just a little too strange for me.  When I was told that you’d called and asked to come specifically to see me today, I assumed it was a joke, and not a particularly clever one.  The fact is, I disregarded it altogether. I-I mean, Adam Levine, coming to see me?”  He scoffed. “That’s not even remotely believable! So the truth is that I didn’t even put the appointment into my book today.  When I heard people start screaming and came out and saw you standing there? I almost fell over!”  He spread his hands, looking confused.  “Why me?  I have no money, no powerful family ties or connections.  I’ve never worked any real high-profile cases.  Most of my work is pro bono, and it’s all local.  I rarely even leave this city, much less the state.  I cannot imagine how you would even know who I am!  A-and now I find out that you know about my brother, too?  You even know what he calls his car!  I don’t understand.  How could you possibly know anything about either of us?”

            “Castiel did a bit of research before we came,” Adam lied smoothly.  Castiel still thought he’d make a great President.  “We have a few qualifications, and the two of you meet all of them.  So, here we are!”

            Winchester’s eyebrow went up.  “And those qualifications would be...?”

            “Fully disclosed to both of you in time,” Adam assured.

            “I see.”  Winchester tapped his fingers together, glancing between the two visitors. “You said Dean and I might be able to help you with something.  May I ask what that is?”

            “It’s a private, personal matter,” Adam said. “I’ll be happy to tell the two of you all about it, but as it’s personal, I really would prefer to tell you both at the same time.  Where is Dean?  Is he far?”

            “No, he isn’t far.”

            After so many years, Castiel had grown used to reading Sam.  Narrow eyes. Furled brow.  Thin lips.  Constant shifting, tapping a foot or a finger.  The lawyer was definitely suspicious now.  Of course he was.  This was Sam Winchester, after all.  The Winchester brothers, after relying so heavily on each other all their lives, were among the closest siblings Castiel had encountered in centuries.  Adam and Castiel showing up out of the blue looking for Sam and his brother would no doubt bring out all of Sam’s protective instincts.

            Adam, apparently, realized it, too.  “We don’t have anything against you or your brother,” he assured.  “We’re not here to cause any trouble, and I apologize for intruding on your lives like this.  But we need help, and right now, Castiel and I have reason to believe that you and Dean may be the only ones who can help us!  And as I said, I’m perfectly willing to pay for both of your services.  We can discuss the rates, but I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

            And now Winchester was still.  He rolled his lips into his mouth and tilted his head slightly to one side, his eyes on Adam.  “I understand you had some kind of attack at your home a few weeks ago,” he said. “And now Mr. Shelton is missing, and there are some questions as to your involvement?  Questions that have just recently been increased due to…”  The green eyes flicked to Castiel.

            Adam’s face grew solemn.  “Yes, that’s correct.”

            Winchester’s long fingers steepled on the desk, pads touching.  “Would that have anything to do with why you need me and my brother?”

            “Yes, it would,” Adam confessed.  “My husband is missing, and we need the help of you and your brother to get him back.  We also need your services as a lawyer, to deal with these allegations.”

            The lawyer held up a hand.  “Wait a minute.  You just said that you need our help to get your husband back.  But you also need my services as a lawyer?  The two are independent of each other?”

            It was Adam’s turn to shift.  “That’s right.  I know it’s strange, but there really is a very good explanation for all of this.  You don’t understand, and until I can sit you both down and tell you the whole story, you won’t.  But you and your brother are the only ones who can help me get Blake back.”

            Winchester seemed to digest this.  “I can understand your need for legal counsel, although I’m still surprised you’d want me, considering your resources.  But what, exactly, do you think that Dean and I specifically could do to help you get your husband back?  What do you want from us?”

            “Right now, just a location,” Adam said.  “Where we can find Dean.  I’d appreciate it if you’d come with us, so we can explain everything to you both at the same time.  Do you think that’s possible?”  He indicated the office.  “You’re obviously very busy.”

            “I am, yes, but your need seems kind of pressing.” 

            “And I’m quite willing to pay your hourly rate to cover the trip,” Adam offered, doing what Dean called “sweetening the deal.” “As I said, I’d like to hire you both on privately.”

            The green eyes were clouded.  Winchester leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed defensively over his chest.  “This isn’t about money.  Why do you want us?  Mr. Levine, what possible connection could my brother and I have to Mr. Shelton?”

            “It’s Adam, and it’s a long story that I would much rather tell you both at the same time,” Adam insisted.  “Please, will you help us?”

            Castiel could practically hear the gears turning in Winchester’s head as he thought it over.  Sam, he knew, was a genius.  His mind could make leaps that most others around him couldn’t begin to grasp.  Castiel had no doubt he was the same here.  What was he thinking now?

            No, don’t peek.  In his universe, both of the Winchesters were fairly adept at shielding their minds.  Sam especially had a powerful mind, likely the result of his psychic abilities. While this version of Sam wouldn’t have Sam’s abilities and probably hadn’t developed the skill to cloak his thoughts, it wouldn’t be right to peek.  Castiel said nothing, simply waiting patiently while the lawyer thought things over.  The green eyes lingered on Castiel and narrowed.  “What assurances do I have that no harm will come to either of us?”

            “I won’t hurt you,” Castiel sighed.  “But there’s nothing I can say to make you believe me, just like there’s nothing I can say to convince you to help us. Whatever you decide, we have to abide by your choice.  But I know enough about you to know that you’re a good man, Sam Winchester.  Adam needs your help now.  Help him.  Please.”

            The lawyer’s brow furled, his eyes moving to consider Adam.  Adam looked pleadingly back at him.  Seeming to have made up his mind, Winchester stood up.  “I need to speak to my partners,” he explained.  “Would the two of you mind waiting here?”

            “Tell Dean whatever you need to tell him of our presence,” Castiel called before Adam could speak.  “It’s obvious you’re stepping out to call him, and it’s fine. Just please don’t tell him to run? We mean him no harm, nor do we intend any harm to you.”

            Winchester eyed the angel for a moment.  Then he again pinched his lips together, nodded, and headed out, leaving Adam and Castiel alone.

            “If he runs, I may shave his head,” Castiel threatened.  He smiled to take any menace out of his words.  “I’m joking, of course.  But the possibility that he just bolted for the door is unfortunately no joke. There’s a real chance of it, especially if he’s worried about Dean!”

            “Mmm, I don’t think he’ll run,” Adam said.  “He looked a bit rattled, sure, but he didn’t look scared.”

            “No, not afraid,” Castiel declared proudly. “Sam was always very brave.  From what I’ve seen of Winchester here so far, they’re very much the same.”

            Adam fidgeted.  Then he got up and started picking up the framed pictures on Winchester’s desk.  “Cute kids, pretty wife,” he commented.  “Ah! This is Dean!  Looks just like he did when I saw him in your world, maybe a little thinner.  Of course, he wasn’t the one I was most interested in at the time.  Sorry.”

            “Understandable.”  Castiel accepted the framed picture and there he was.  Dean was indeed thinner than he was used to, and somewhat younger.  He was seated on the hood of the Impala with his leather jacket on.  Castiel smiled.  “This picture seems to be older, but yes, this is my Dean,” he said.  “He had a jacket like that, but it was stolen. Nice to see he still has it in this reality!  Isn’t he handsome?”

            “Yeah, he is, actually,” Adam confessed.  “Nice, Castiel!  Can’t see it so well in this picture or the DMV one, but he’s got the same green eyes as his brother.  They’re both pretty good-looking guys, aren’t they?  The Winchester brothers?”

            “They don’t lack female company when they want it,” Castiel said proudly.  “It eases my mind to see that picture here.  When Sam had Baby and Dean wasn’t here, I was worried that it was a bad sign. They’ve had some fairly serious fights in the past where they’ve gone their separate ways.  But it’s strange that Sam has Baby.”

            “Dean’s pretty attached to that car?”

            “You have no idea,” Castiel groaned.  “I still can’t figure out how Sam talked him into that iPod!  I cannot imagine a faster way to piss Dean off than to do anything to that car of his!”

            “Honestly, I can’t say I blame him,” Adam declared. “It’s a nice car!  You know, Blake always loved those old muscle cars.  In fact, I had a dream about that, where Blake was driving a car just like that and I was with him?  It’s amazing, actually.  When I saw the Impala outside, I got such déjà vu.  It was like I was looking at that same car!”

            “Actually, it’s possible you were,” Castiel told him. “Blake is with Dean, and Dean is never without that car.  So it stands to reason Blake would have a lot of contact with it.  You and Blake, if you’re really soulmates, and he longs for you as much as you do for him?  Then it’s possible your minds may have touched for a moment, especially if Blake was longing to have you with him at the same time.”

            “You know what?  That makes me feel pretty good, Castiel,” Adam declared. “The idea that I could touch Blake’s mind like that, even though we’re in two completely different realities? That’s comforting!”  He smiled.  “I’m sure Blake would have wanted me there if he got a chance to drive that car.  I wouldn’t mind taking it for a spin sometime.”

            “You can always ask, but I wouldn’t get too hopeful,” Castiel cautioned.  “Dean doesn’t even like it when Sam drives!”  He was busy looking through the other pictures.  “Looks like that’s the only picture he has of Dean, though.  All the rest of these are his kids.  Not even another picture of his wife!  That’s odd, isn’t it?”

            “Not the best sign of a happy marriage, no.”  Adam returned to his chair.  “Well, looks like Sam Winchester is a real family man, at least.  Loves his kids.  That’s nice.”

            “And it also explains why he doesn’t hunt,” Castiel theorized.  His eyes were back on the picture of Dean, locked on the image of the Righteous Man. “Sam wouldn’t dare put a wife and family in danger.  And it also explains why Dean isn’t here.”  He indicated the picture of Winchester’s family.  “If Dean’s a hunter, he wouldn’t want that life to affect Sam’s family.”

            “Makes sense,” Adam mused.  “Hunting monsters isn’t something you want to take home to a wife and kids, huh?”

            “Certainly not!”  Castiel looked at the picture of Dean again, smiling down at it.  “He seems happy, Adam.  I’d hoped that his life here suited him, even if he doesn’t hunt. Whatever he does, he looks like he’s doing alright.  This world, it must have been good for both of the Winchesters.”

            Adam glanced over at him.  “That’s good, right?”

            “Oh yes, very good!  They’ve certainly earned it.” 

            “Yeah, but is it good for us?” Adam wanted to know. “If they’re not hunters?”

            “Like we discussed, they can still help,” Castiel insisted.  “In fact, Sam being a lawyer opens doors we never had before.  And we’ve yet to see what resources Dean can bring to the table. Even if he’s not a hunter, Dean is loyal, selfless, and brave.  He often takes a bit to warm up to people.  But you’ll never meet a better friend and ally.”

            “Good enough for me!”

            Castiel chuckled.  “I’m still having trouble adjusting to this idea of Sam Winchester as a family man, with a job and wife and kids.  But they deserve it, Adam.  They deserve a good, quiet life.  Sam has a family and a career, and Dean deserves something just as good.  Maybe, in this world, he has it?”

            “Maybe he’s even less of an asshole here?” Adam asked wryly.

            Castiel snorted.  “I find that very unlikely.”

            Adam laughed.

            Winchester came back in.  He paused, his eyes on Castiel.  Then he wordlessly took the picture from the angel’s hands and replaced it on his desk.  “I did some fast talking, and got permission to take the rest of the day to see if I can help you, but they’ll charge you my hourly rate,” he warned.  “I also told them you wanted to hire me on, have me go with you for a while, but I hadn’t decided if I wanted to do that yet.  We still have to determine if I really can do whatever it is you think I can do.  And I didn’t mention the bonus.”  He shook his head.  “I gotta tell you, my partners are going to grill me for details when I come back! But I couldn’t tell them what you wanted with me because you still haven’t really told me.  Care to fill me in?”

            “Just take us to Dean,” Castiel directed.  “And we’ll fill you both in.”  He smiled.  “Thank you, Sam Winchester.”

            “Yes, thank you,” Adam gushed, getting to his feet to shake the lawyer’s hand.  “My rental car’s outside.  Do you want me to drive you, or do you want to follow us?”

            Winchester again shook his head.  “I’ll just drive you out.  It’s not far, but it’s a bit off the main road.”

            “Ah, it’s a hidden camp, then,” Castiel mused, nodding.  “Someplace near you, but well hidden!  Good choice.”

            Winchester cleared his throat.  “Actually, it’s not a camp.  It’s St. Benedict’s.”

            Castiel froze, blinking in surprise.  “Dean is at a church?”

            “Kind of,” Winchester called.  He opened his door and waved them out.  “St. Benedict’s is a monastery.  Come on, I’ll take you out there.  Then I’d very much appreciate finding out exactly what it is you think we can do for you, because I have to tell you, I’m stumped!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks it was cool they got to meet Sam, and funny that Sam fan boyed. Noted the wall that went up as soon as Cass started talking about Dean.
> 
> Trivia Time!
> 
> Several costume pieces were stolen from the “Supernatural” set, including a few of Castiel’s trench coats and Dean’s jacket. The jacket could not be replaced, which is why Dean suddenly stops wearing it in the show without explanation.
> 
> Sam does indeed have psychic powers in the show, at least for a short time. They were the result of his being fed demon blood as a baby the night their mother was murdered, and became especially strong any time Sam drank more demon blood. He quickly became addicted. Once he was sober and the demon who had altered him was destroyed, Sam no longer exhibited psychic powers.
> 
> Here's what happened when Sam first met Castiel!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=czQKWx36s-o


	18. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lawyer Sam brings Adam and Castiel to Dean, but the reunion is nothing like Castiel imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song I used here is "Angel" by Sarah McLachlan  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozKsQnRHb-c

            It was good to be back in Baby again, even though, as usual, Castiel was regulated to the back seat.  The car was simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar. The initials of the two brothers had been carved in the same place as he’d remembered, and the old, comforting rattle of the toy in the heating vent made him smile.  But the toy jammed in the ash tray was missing.  The seats had all been replaced, as had the interior.  The dashboard had also been replaced, or at least upgraded.  The cassette player was gone from the dash, replaced by a CD player.  And of course, Winchester’s iPod was there, providing the music as they drove.  Pop, not classic rock.  How Dean put up with Justin Beiber coming out of Baby’s speakers was a mystery.  “You’ve redone the interior,” Castiel commented aloud.

            “Um, yeah,” Winchester replied, shooting him a look. “I basically had the whole thing rebuilt.  This old car’s been through a lot.”

            “Of course.”  Castiel smiled.  “Baby’s been through nearly as much as Dean has.”

            The green eyes met his in the mirror.  “How did you know Dean named this car ‘Baby’?” he asked.  “That’s not something anyone outside of immediate family or close friends know! My partners don’t even know!  So how would you?  This whole thing is honestly starting to creep me out a little. How do you know so much about me and my brother?”

            “Like we said, we’ll explain everything when we get to Dean,” Adam interjected.  “We really don’t want to explain it all twice.”

            Winchester’s hands tightened on the wheel, but he said nothing.

            Soon, they were pulling off the road, heading out into the countryside.  And a short time later, they were rolling down the drive towards what could only be some sort of religious institution.  Castiel shook his head in wonder.  “A monastery!  That is something I never would have guessed.”

            The green eyes flicked to him in the rearview mirror.  “What do you mean?”

            “I tried to imagine what Dean’s career of choice would be here, when we met him today,” Castiel mused, looking out the window. “I would have expected something along the line of auto mechanic or perhaps security, something more physical. But instead, I find him at a monastery!” He chuckled.  “I have to say, of all the careers to be considered, this was not an option I ever imagined!  Dean Winchester as a monk!”

            “No,” Winchester corrected.  “He’s here, but he’s not a monk.”

            “Ah.  Too bad, I was looking forward to our first theological discussion.  Dean works here, then?  That’s interesting.”  And disappointing.  It meant he probably wasn’t a hunter.

            But Winchester was shaking his head.  “He doesn’t work here.  It’s just where he stays for now.”

            “I see.”  Castiel felt hopeful.  A monastery was an odd place to stay, but this was an odd world.  “You said it’s where he stays for now?  He’s here temporarily?”

            The lawyer nodded.  “That’s right.”

            “Then it’s good we came now,” Adam noted.  “We can catch him before he moves on.  Plus, it will be easy for him to come with us!”

            “Neither one of us has agreed to anything of the sort yet,” Winchester cautioned quickly.  “You asked me to bring you to Dean before you told me what you want from us, and that’s all I’m doing.  It doesn’t imply any sort of agreement beyond that!”

            “Still, it’s nice to know he’s not too attached,” Adam argued.  “Lucky break, Castiel!”

            Castiel smiled.  “Yes, it is.”  He was already scanning the grounds.  “Where is he?”

            “He’s out back.”  Winchester parked, and they all got out of the car.

            Adam and Castiel followed the tall man as he led the way around the building, heading towards a large garden.  “A garden,” Castiel told Adam.  “That’s lovely.  A good, peaceful location to relax and rest.  Dean must be very happy here!”

            But Adam didn’t answer.  The singer’s hands suddenly clutched at Castiel’s arm. Castiel glanced over and was surprised to see that Adam’s face had gone pale.  The hazel eyes were huge, looking at Castiel with, what was that expression? It didn’t make sense to Castiel.

            Just ahead of them, Winchester had stopped in front of a large wall.  “Alright,” he announced.  “We’re here.”

            Castiel brightened and looked around, seeking the familiar sight of the Righteous Man.  But he saw no one.  He frowned in confusion.  “I don’t understand.  Where’s Dean?”

            “He’s here,” Winchester repeated.  He stood stiffly, his shoulders set, staring at the wall in front of them.

            “Castiel?”  Adam’s voice was soft.  “Look.”

            Castiel looked where Adam was pointing.  Ahead of them was a large wall covered with carved granite blocks.  Immediately, the familiar names jumped out.  There was John Winchester, gone for nearly a decade.  Next to him was Mary Winchester, died just five years ago. And there, where Adam was pointing, was a cold, impersonal granite square bearing the name Dean Winchester, the date three years ago.

            Castiel stopped breathing.

            “I don’t know how you know anything about us,” Winchester was saying, his back still to them.  “But there’s obviously a few things you don’t know.  Our parents divorced when we were kids.  We got shuttled back and forth between them the whole time we were growing up.  Dad never got over losing our mom, and finally drank himself to death.  And mom, she never could settle down.  She just bounced from one thing to another, always a new job, a new place to live, a new boyfriend, a new beginning.  She had so many new beginnings that she never finished anything, especially her family.  We learned to adjust, you know.  Dad was a drunk.  Even when he was around, he wasn’t really there.  And mom was always so busy with whatever new thing she was doing that she never really had time for us.  So ever since we were kids, Dean took care of me.”

            Castiel tore his eyes away from the wall to look at Winchester.  The lawyer was still staring at his brother’s name on the wall.  His voice was perfectly even as he spoke.  “I relied far more on Dean than on our parents,” he explained.  “Dean ended up being more my parent than my brother.  He did his best, raised me as well as he could even though he was just a kid himself.  And he worked so hard, always with two or sometimes three jobs.  He’d wear clothes until they were full of holes, wear out his shoes, even skip meals, all so he could save every penny he could for me, so I could go to school.  He helped me study, made sure I did well while he dropped out of high school to work. And because of Dean, I ended up going to Stanford on a full scholarship.  That money he saved brought me books, and Dean was so proud!”  The lawyer paused, swallowing hard.  “B-but then I went to college and left him behind. I got a job, got married, and started a family of my own.  Dean was always welcome, of course.  My kids loved him, my wife was fond of him, and of course I always looked up to him. But it was obvious to all of us that something was wrong.  And eventually, I figured it out.  No one needed Dean anymore.  Even with me and my family, he was never really a part.  We all loved him, but no one needed him.  He’d lost his purpose in life.  Now he felt alone, unnecessary.  And I think that’s why he started drinking, too, just like our dad did.” 

            Winchester reached out a hand, touching Dean’s marker. “Dean went downhill fast once he fell into the bottle.  He got into trouble with the law, couldn’t keep a job, got evicted and lived in my basement for a while.  I saw him drowning, but I didn’t know how to save him.”  He spread his hand, covering part of Dean’s name, and closed his eyes. “And I tried!” he exclaimed.  “I tried to save him!  I got him into a couple different rehabs, got him clean, got him a job.  And he’d be good for a while, but then he’d just fall off the wagon again.  Then finally three years ago, he went out and got drunk for the last time.”

            “What happened?” Adam asked softly.  His hands still held Castiel’s arm, who stood as if frozen.

            “We never really found out,” Winchester confessed. His voice was quiet now.  “In spite of his history, it was a complete shock. Dean, he’d been doing so well!  He was clean, he was reliable, he had a decent job...  I thought we were past it, you know?  I honestly believed that I’d saved him, that the last rehab I put him in and me telling him that if he picked up a bottle again I’d never let him see my kids again had finally gotten through to him.  But his blood alcohol was way past the legal limit when they found him.  And I’ll never forget the day I had to go down and identify him.”  He lowered his hand, looking at his brother’s name on the wall once more.  “I saw the official report,” the lawyer continued, his voice clinical and detached once more.  “It says that Dean had too much to drink, got into his Baby, and drove her right off a bridge.  I don’t know if it was an accident or if he committed suicide, but the end was the same either way.  That’s why the Impala’s been rebuilt, Castiel, because of Dean’s accident.  He always loved that car!  So I had her fixed up, and I’ve been driving her ever since.  We have the minivan for when we go out with the kids.  But if I’m alone, I always drive Baby.  Closest I can get to my brother besides visiting him here, you know?  It kind of feels like part of him’s still there, I guess, in that car.  Like any moment, I’ll look over and see him smiling back at me.  But he’s not.  Because he’s here.  He’s gone.”

            Castiel couldn’t stop staring at the stone, the damning information carved into the living rock.  Dean, gone?  Gone for three years?  Castiel couldn’t imagine it.  Next to him, Adam’s breathing was quick.  He clung to Castiel’s arm with both hands, as though he was preparing to use the angel to keep himself upright.  But Castiel wasn’t sure if he was capable of standing much longer himself.  He swayed, stared at the marker in disbelief.  “Dean’s ashes are here?” he asked.  Part of him was amazed at how clinical and detached his voice sounded, while inside he was screaming, screaming.

            “All my family’s ashes are interred here,” Winchester confirmed.  “I won’t be, though.  When my time comes, I’ll be buried, and I’ll have Dean’s ashes put in with me.  That’s why he’s only here temporarily.  Because when I die, my brother will be with me.”  He finally turned, the green eyes moving between Adam and Castiel.  His expression had gone cold.  “Our parents aren’t much more than a painful memory to me,” he explained.  “A life lesson on how not to raise my own kids. But Dean?  Honestly, he raised me more than my parents did!  I loved my brother.  I still love my brother!  And that’s why the two of you need to tell me right fucking now exactly what is going on!”

            “Castiel, what the hell do we do now?” Adam asked anxiously.  The hazel eyes were wide and frightened.  “If Dean’s dead, and Sam’s not a hunter, how do we get Blake back?”

            “We still have Sam, and he’s still a lawyer,” Castiel announced.  His voice was surprisingly calm to his own ears.  “And we’ll keep looking for hunters.  It will have to be enough.”  Castiel’s eyes were locked on Dean’s marker, unable to pull away from the name.

            Winchester’s eyebrows went up.  He took a step back, his eyes moving from Castiel to Adam and back. “Um, excuse me?  What do you mean, you still have me?  I-is that some sort of threat?  And what’s this about hunters?  I’m sorry, but the two of you really need to start making sense!  This whole thing is just confusing the hell out of me!  I want answers, and I want them now!”

            “Can we go back and talk in the car?” Adam suggested.  “It’s a long story, and you’d really better be sitting down to hear it.”

            Adam’s hands were still on Castiel’s arm.  Now they pulled, gently but firmly turning the angel away from the marker and the damning words it bore.  Then Adam’s arm went around Castiel’s waist, while his other hand remained on the angel’s arm.  Castiel allowed himself to be taken back to the car without a word.  He climbed into the back and listened as Adam explained the whole story to the skeptical lawyer while they sat in the parked car.  But Adam’s hazel eyes constantly checked on Castiel in the rearview mirror.

            Castiel felt numb inside.  _He’s gone.  Dean’s gone in this world.  And only Sam is here to mourn him.  My Righteous Man.  He’s ashes in a wall and a picture on his brother’s desk.  Nothing but memories.  Gone._

            Gone.

            “Castiel?”

            Adam’s voice brought Castiel out of his musings. He blinked, looking at the singer.

            Adam was looking back at him.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I can’t imagine what you’re thinking and feeling right now, buddy, but he asked you a question.”

            “Yeah, I wanted to know if you could prove you’re really, you know, an angel, like an actual supernatural being?” Winchester repeated.

            Castiel looked at him.  Then he leaned forward and opened his wings, letting them fill the back seat.  “I find this is usually proof enough for most humans,” he told the stunned lawyer cooly. “It was proof enough for your brother when I first met him, back in my own universe.  Is it proof enough for you, Sam Winchester?”

            Always the same reaction.  Winchester seemed to forget how to speak properly for a bit, stuttering and shaking.  Adam, seeing this for the first time, seemed more excited than anything else.  Castiel sat back, largely ignoring them both, and returned to his musings.  Eventually, Adam finally managed to calm himself, and then Winchester.  Then the lawyer listened with considerably less skepticism as Adam explained about hunters and why they needed to find them in this world.

            “I never saw or heard anything in all my life that made me believe that anything supernatural existed,” Sam declared.  “A-and now I’ve got an angel in the back seat of my car!”  He shivered. “I’ll talk to some people I know. I’m a defense lawyer, so I’ve got some connections to the marginally legal, as well as access to some databases. I obviously can’t promise anything, but I’ll try!”

            “It’s a pretty big rabbit hole you’re jumping into,” Adam warned.  “You sure about this, buddy?”

            “Yes, of course!  I-in fact, let me head back to the firm now, tell them I’ve agreed to come with you.  I’m sure they’ll charge you a fortune, but I can help, and…”

            “Whoa, hold it!” Adam cautioned.  “Dude, we can really use your help, but think it over, ok? We’ve just rocked your world today, but remember, you’ve got a wife and kids, and you said you had a big court case!”

            The lawyer paused.  “I haven’t had a vacation in a year and a half,” he admitted.  “The other partners use me mostly for research when I’m not doing my pro bono cases.  I’ve been arguing for a raise and for us to hire a paralegal or two.  This should help prove my point!  As to my family?”  He paused again.  “Frankly, my wife and I could use a break.  Our marriage...  It’s been a little strained lately.”

            Adam grimaced.  “Sorry to hear that.”

            “Thanks.”  Winchester started the car.  “Let’s get back to the office and I’ll make arrangements.  Then I’ll come with you for a few weeks, at least.  I’ll stay with you at least up through the full moon, and do whatever I can to help you get your husband back.”  He paused, glancing in the rearview mirror at Castiel. “I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you. About Dean, I mean.  But I know you can be a dangerous man, and I had no way to know...”

            “We get it,” Adam assured.  He gently squeezed the lawyer’s arm.  “Are you sure about this, buddy?”

            “I’m sure,” Winchester declared.  “I’ll never have a chance like this again.  I can’t just sit back and let it pass me by!”  He suddenly looked serious, glancing back again at Castiel.  “If nothing else, I owe it to Dean.  I couldn’t help him, but maybe I can help you?”

            Castiel heard all of this, but it barely sank in. At least Winchester was agreeing to help and willing to come with them.  But Adam kept watching Castiel.  Then his hand snaked back and took Castiel’s.  It couldn’t have been especially comfortable for Adam, sitting in the front seat with his arm twisted back.  But Adam wouldn’t let go.  The rest of the ride, he kept holding the angel’s hand.  Odd.  Well, Adam had known how much having Dean Winchester might have helped them.  The singer was likely worried that only having one of the Winchester brothers available could hurt his chances of saving his husband, and needing comfort.  What had they called it?  Angel valium? Well, that power seemed passive, so why not let him take advantage of it?  It didn’t seem to have any real negative effects on Castiel.  He returned to his brooding.

            Winchester drove them back to the law office, where he agreed to meet them at their hotel room.  They’d stay the night, and then drive back to Oklahoma in the morning.  Winchester wanted to drive all three of them in the Impala, something Adam was agreeable to.  But both the lawyer and Adam were speaking in quiet voices now, constantly glancing at Castiel.  It made no sense to Castiel.  But he said nothing.

            Then Adam was hurrying Castiel into the rental car, fussing over getting him into his seatbelt.  It was annoying.  Castiel was perfectly capable of adjusting his own seatbelt.  He allowed it, although he was frowning at Adam.

            Adam didn’t say a word.  He started driving, taking Castiel’s hand every time he could safely take his own hand from the wheel.  Apparently, he needed Castiel’s power a great deal.  But then, back at the hotel, Adam repeated the process he’d utilized getting into the car in reverse, running around the car to undo Castiel’s seatbelt and leading him with an arm around him into the hotel.  It was very strange.  It almost seemed as if Adam feared Castiel would somehow collapse if he wasn’t there to offer support.  Adam stopped only long enough to tell the clerk they were expecting Winchester.  And then he was hurrying Castiel up to the room.

            With great patience, Castiel put up with it. Once in the room, Adam gently pushed Castiel towards one of the beds.  Then Adam sat on it next to him.  The singer’s arm was still around Castiel, his other hand holding tight to Castiel’s hand.  The hazel eyes were full of concerned sympathy.  “Whatever you’re feeling now?” Adam said softly.  “It’s alright, buddy.”

            “Why wouldn’t it be alright?” Castiel asked sharply. “I’m sorry, Adam, but your words and actions are confusing me!”

            “Dude, you just found out Dean’s dead in this world!” Adam pointed out.

            “That’s correct.  But what is it that you expect me to do now?  Mourn?  I never knew the man whose ashes we visited today, Adam!  His loss is regrettable, but no more so than any other human!”

            “Of course,” Adam agreed quickly.  He didn’t look convinced.

            “The real problem remains that both I and your husband are stranded in the wrong universes,” Castiel pointed out.  “I will be honest with you.  I’m grateful to learn that Sam Winchester is the same kind of man in this world as he is in mine.  His help will likely prove invaluable.  But it may not be enough.  We still can’t count on Dean and I to bridge the two worlds, and we don’t have the spell to communicate and even find out!”

            Adam’s hand squeezed his.  “I know, buddy, but right now, I’m just worried about you.”

            Castiel looked at him crossly.  “Why?”

            “Because I care about you, alright?”  Adam’s voice remained soft.  “I haven’t known you long, Castiel, but it seems very clear to me that something’s wrong with you.”

            Castiel stilled.  “What do you mean?”

            “I mean that I understand,” Adam insisted. “We’ve both got someone we miss terribly, that we’re afraid for.  Whatever you might think or feel right now, it’s alright!  You’ve just had another shock in a series of shocks, and you’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling.  So if you want to plan, or yell at me, or whatever you want to do?  You go right ahead and do it!  I’m here for you, buddy.  Whatever you need.”

            Castiel shook his head.  “All I want to do is wait for Sam Winchester to return.”

            “Alright.”  And to Castiel’s surprise, the man who was normally in near-constant motion sat quietly at his side, holding tight to Castiel, until the lawyer finally arrived.

            Winchester was clutching something in his hand that he thrust awkwardly at Castiel when he came in.  “Um, listen,” he began as Castiel stared at it.  “I don’t know what it was, exactly, that you’ve got going on with Dean in your universe, but it’s real obvious that you’re close.  This was my brother’s.  I think maybe he’d want you to have it?  It, well, seemed appropriate.”

            Castiel looked up at him, and then down at the offering.  He reached out and took it.  The item turned out to be a white t-shirt.  When unfolded, it read “I believe in angels!”  The back was covered by a black outline of a set of wings.  Castiel frowned.  “Thank you, but I believe you are incorrect,” he told Winchester.  “The Dean I knew never would have wished me to have this.  Mostly because the Dean I knew never believed in angels!  When I first met him, he told me as much.  He…”

            Castiel froze in the act of re-folding the shirt. He’d assumed that this had once belonged to Winchester’s older brother and had been dug out of the laundry, perhaps as a sort of peace offering.  Foolish in retrospect.  The brothers were never able to wear each other’s clothing as adults, and Dean had been gone now for years.  This, it seemed, had been put away somewhere, stored carefully by Sam Winchester with other mementos of his brother and never laundered again.  It had to be.  Because when Castiel had shaken out the shirt to fold it, the familiar scent of the man who’d once worn it had hit him full in the face.

            _Dean._  

            Suddenly Castiel was angry, angrier than he ever remembered being.  “Dean never believed in angels,” he repeated through clenched teeth.  “I am the one who believed in Dean!  I rebelled for him, defied heaven itself, stood against my own kind and the archangels for him.  I gave up everything I was, everything I knew, to stand at his side. Because I believed in Dean!  I told him once that I didn’t, but it was never true.  Deep inside, I always believed in Dean.  And I wasn’t alone!  So many believed in him!  Some even died believing in that Righteous Man because they knew that Dean would never stop fighting.  We followed Dean because we believed.  We followed him through the gates of Heaven and Hell.  And so many died doing it.  I died doing it!  And it was worth it, because Dean was worth it!”  He clutched the shirt and glared up at the lawyer.  “But who believed in Dean here?  How could my Righteous Man die such a lonely, miserable death?  Where were you, Sam Winchester?  Where was _I?_   Where is Castiel in this world?!”

            Winchester’s face was stark white.  He froze, staring wide-eyed at the furious angel.

            “Castiel?”  Adam’s voice was a whisper.

            But Castiel wasn’t listening.  He got to his feet.  One hand clutched the shirt to his chest.  His eyes were raised towards heaven.  “Castiel!” he roared.  “Do you hear me?  How could you have not known that Dean needed you?!  Were you there, with him at the end?  Or did you just sit back and watch while his car went off that bridge, while the most precious light on this planet went out?  Damn you, Castiel!  How could you do it?!  You bastard, how could you let him be gone?!  I was doomed the moment I put my hand on him to raise him out of Hell!  But what about you?  Are you doomed now, that he is with you in Heaven?”  He shook his head.  “I don’t understand you, Castiel.  Even though I didn’t understand my own feelings for Dean, I never would have stood back and let him fall.  And yet, you did!  And that, to you, should have been far, far worse than any other sin I have ever committed! How, Castiel?  How could you do it?!  You pathetic creature!  You _monster!”_   He shook his fist towards the sky.  “Hear me now, my brothers!  Know what a treasure you have in your midst!  Take him into your arms and tell him how much he means!  Let him know that once, in another world, one of your kind loved him, even if I was too frightened and stupid to let him know! Because I never told him!  I never did, and now?”  He paused, shaking.  “Now, I may never have the chance!”

            Castiel collapsed, falling back to sit on the bed, bringing the shirt to his face.  What was this?  He felt as if he were being torn apart by a hundred Enochian blades!  The pain welled, spilled over.  He breathed deeply, taking in the scent of the man he loved.  It was surprisingly difficult.  Why was it so hard to breathe?  His breathing was coming in choked gasps, his shoulders shaking.  And this sound, was it coming from him?  It was familiar.  He’d heard it before.  But never before had he ever heard such a sound come from an angel.

            Adam and Winchester were there, their arms around him.  Neither said a word.  But their presence, their silent, steady support, was comforting.  Castiel continued to struggle for a bit with his breathing.  It felt oddly relaxing, as though some terrible, ever-building source of internal tension had finally been released.  He could feel it draining out of him.  Strange. He’d never experienced something like this before.  The pain he felt was still there, though.  And after a time, Castiel finally was able to return to normal breathing. Trembling, he lowered the shirt.  It was wet in his hands.

            “So an angel can cry,” Winchester said softly.

            “Looks that way,” Adam confirmed.  He took the hem of the shirt and wiped at Castiel’s face, mopping up the moisture there.  “I’d say that was a long time coming, buddy.”

            “Was it?”  Castiel blinked owlishly at the wet shirt.  He looked at the trash can nearby, and looked again at the shirt.  Then he carefully folded the shirt and tucked it into the pocket of his leather jacket.  “I’ve never done such a thing before!  I knew it was possible for an angel to cry, but I’d only heard of it.  I never witnessed it, much less...  This.”  He considered for a moment.  “It feels… better?”

            “That tends to happen,” Adam said.  “God knows you were overdue for a good cry!”  Then he did an odd thing.  He caught Castiel’s head and pulled it closer to his face. And a moment later, his lips were pressing against Castiel’s temple.  Castiel blinked in surprise, and Adam smiled.  “I love you, buddy,” he announced.  “And I’ll do whatever I have to do to help you get back to your Dean!”

            “I’ll help you, too,” Winchester offered quickly. His face looked stricken.  “You were right, Castiel, about me.  I wasn’t there for Dean!  I was too busy with my own life to see how far he was falling.  So I’ll be here for him now.  I know this Dean of yours isn’t my brother, not really. But this is the closest I’ll ever come now.  I’ll help you get back to him.”

            “Thank you,” Castiel said humbly, “but our priority needs to be getting Adam’s husband back.  I’m the reason he was sent to my world, and the reason he’s running out of time. I’ve got to help him, get him back!” He turned to Adam.  “And I’ll do it, Adam, I promise!  No matter what it takes, if there’s any possible way…?”

            “I know you will.”  Adam smiled.  “I believe in you, Castiel.”

            “Don’t,” Castiel warned.  “I’m a fallen angel.  I’m a monster.  And I’m not worthy of your devotion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun guessed that Dean was dead. Liked how Cass cursed out Heaven, the angels, and himself, asking them where they were. Was nice to see him finally let it all out.
> 
> Tem, ***GOLD STAR*** for picking up on every single clue I provided that Dean was dead! But Anit, you were correct, too. Even in this world, Dean was still a righteous man.


	19. Right Here Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam convinces Castiel to seek out another source of information to try to find a way to save Blake. Farrar and Winchester make some headway on their research, but Farrar is worried about Winchester's state of mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs Sam plays are "The Wisdom of Snow" by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bm392EklG5c
> 
> Right Here Waiting by Richard Marx (Main theme and inspiration for this series!)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_uWS6K-VF8

19 – Right Here Waiting

            Adam was becoming more and more certain something was horribly, terribly wrong with Blake.  It was more than Castiel’s dire warnings, and it wasn’t just his imagination. Somewhere, somehow, Blake was failing. His Big Country was growing weaker every day.  Adam could sense it.  But he had no idea how he could help.  Adam’s fear and loneliness and frustration were eating him up inside.  Outwardly, he tried to remain cheerful, hopeful, and enthusiastic.  But Adam doubted he was fooling anyone.

            With no more shows coming up and some time to go before “The Voice” was due to start taping again, Adam had too much time on his hands.  They’d returned to the ranch in Oklahoma.  Out here, the police had already come knocking twice, wanting Adam and Castiel to come to the station for questioning.  And both times, Sam Winchester had met them at the door, politely informed him that his clients were declining to do so, and had asked them to leave.  “They have nothing on you,” he’d assured Adam, “or they’d have a warrant.  They’re asking you to go down there so they can try to trip you up, catch you in a lie.  Normally, I’d go down with you and we’d tell your story.  But seeing as how your entire story is one giant lie that you’ve only expanded upon and made more complex and easier to disprove, my official legal advice is to shut your mouth until and unless they come out here with a warrant.  And if that happens, you don’t say a word unless I’m present.  Is that clear?”

            It was clear.  Adam was all too ready to trust the lawyer, especially when he saw the immediate trust his angel had.  Winchester, it seemed, was indeed very similar to the man Castiel knew.  And the band took to him, as well.  Sam Farrar especially seemed to get along well with Winchester, especially once the lawyer proved himself competent in computer work.

            Adam quickly learned that Castiel had been right when he’d said that Winchester could help.  The lawyer was exceptionally good at research.  He spent a lot of time with Farrar, researching spells and trying to get through the hunter encryption.  But progress was frustratingly slow.  And in the sky, the moon was growing ever fuller.

            Adam and Castiel had joined the two to check on their progress.  Winchester had a suggestion for Castiel.  “You said our biggest problem, so far as Blake goes, is that he needs a way to boost his own soul power and reduce the drain on him,” he said.  “And we’ve been looking at spells or finding other hunters to see if any of them can help us.  But quite frankly, it seems to me that we’re overlooking the most obvious resource we’ve got.  And that’s you, Castiel!  You’re an angel!  I cannot think of anyone who would know more about soul power than an angel, right?  So I’ll just throw this out there.  You were yelling at him the day we met, but have you tried talking to him?”

            Castiel cocked an eyebrow.  “Who?”

            “You,” Winchester explained.  “Castiel in this world!  If there’s a duplicate of Adam and me in your world, it stands to reason there’s probably a duplicate of you here!  You’ve tried talking to him, right?”

            “If I exist in this world, I seem to be keeping my own counsel,” Castiel explained. “But I can’t communicate with any other angels here.  We seem to be on slightly different frequencies.”

            “Well, in my business, if a witness won’t answer the phone, I go knock on the door,” Winchester offered.  “Have you tried just flying up to heaven and finding out?”

            Castiel stared at him.  “In my world, I would have thought twice before daring such a thing,” he explained. “I haven’t exactly been on the best of terms with Heaven for some time now.  And not having my wings made it hard without access to a gate.  But yes,” he mused, suddenly thoughtful.  “Now that you mention it, I could simply fly up there and ask if he’ll see me.  I’m not an outcast in this world.  It’s possible that, if I approached respectfully and explained my situation, Castiel might be willing to hear me out, at least.”

            “Well, there is one thing,” Winchester cautioned.  “You said you’re on slightly different frequencies.  Is that because you’re from a different world, or…”  He hesitated, eyeing Castiel.

            “What is it?” Castiel encouraged.

            Winchester shifted uncomfortably.  “I don’t want to offend you or anything, but I saw that interview Adam did.  That theory about Cassiel, and the idea that you might have actually been created because a monk made a spelling error?  Well… What if it’s true?  N-not that you’re a spelling error, but what if it wasn’t actually a spelling error?  What if that monk somehow got a glimpse of you in your own world, because the worlds are just slightly different?  And what if, in this world, that difference means that you’re actually the archangel Cassiel?  Same guy, just slightly different?”

            Castiel scoffed.  “There’s a bit more than a slight difference between an angel and an archangel!”

            “Oh, I’m sure there is,” Winchester backtracked quickly.  “But you guys, listen to this.  You said that Adam’s a country singer in your world.  And I’m a monster hunter!  So we know there’s differences, right?  So if you’re, um, an archangel in this world, maybe that’s why the name is different as well?  That would explain your communication problems, anyway!  And we all know you’ve got the same kind of powers that Cassiel…” The occasional stutter Adam noticed in the lawyer had turned into silence.  Even his head, which was usually in near-constant motion as he spoke when he was emotional, had grown still.  Winchester froze, seeing the blue eyes locked on to him.

            “What are you saying?” Castiel asked.  His face was oddly intense.  “You honestly think I’m an archangel in this world?”

            “Um, I m-mean no offense, really!” Winchester insisted.  “But, um, we know now there’s differences in different worlds, so just think about it for a moment.  In your world, you’re an angel.  But what if, in this world, you’re an archangel?  Have you noticed anything different?”

            Adam’s mouth had dropped open.  “He can do what Cassiel is supposed to do, providing comfort in times of greatest need!” he recalled.  “And his wings!  Before he came here, they were burned off, but they’re healed now.  And you said you felt stronger, Castiel!  What if it’s all happening because you’re Cassiel?  The dude’s an archangel!  Wouldn’t an archangel have enough juice for all those things to be happening?”

            “Yes,” Castiel replied, drawing out the word into a long hiss.  “Yes, he would.  An archangel’s powers are immense.  If they hadn’t all been destroyed or locked in the Cage by the time Metatron cast all the other angels out of Heaven, it’s possible they could have resisted it.  Michael, Raphael, or Gabriel might even still have their wings!”  He paused, looking troubled.  “And my powers have grown in the time I’ve been here.  Grown so much it’s frightening.  I’ve known for some time that something was wrong.  The power I have now, it’s far more than I should have as an angel.”

            “Well, there you go!” Adam declared.  “Is it possible that all this is happening to you because you’re somehow drawing on some of that archangel power?”

            “I don’t know,” Castiel admitted.  “This is beyond my knowledge or understanding.  I’ve never heard of an angel being trapped in another universe, much less a universe where he’s an archangel.  There really is no precedence here.”

            “Well, maybe you should just go up to Heaven and ask to speak to Cassiel?” Farrar suggested.  “Winchester’s right, brother.  I mean, go up and ask for Castiel, and if there’s no such angel, try asking for Cassiel?”

            Castiel had grown still.  “One does not just walk up to the gates of Heaven and ask to see one of the most powerful beings there,” he explained.

            “Castiel, no offense, but maybe it’s time to put the etiquette on the shelf?” Adam offered irritably.  “These are kind of extenuating circumstances here!  Blake is dying, alright?!  No, I don’t want to hear it,” he said loudly, holding up his hand as Castiel frowned and the two Sams appeared about to speak.  “I know, alright?  I can feel it!  I feel like he’s just fading away, and it scares me to death!  So I agree with Winchester.  It’s time to ask for some Heavenly assistance.  This thing with Dean here, it kind of drove it all home. Your soulmate is dead in my world. Please don’t let mine die in yours!” He looked at Castiel, letting the fear he felt for Blake show in his face, and saw his angel stiffen. “Please, Castiel!  I haven’t really asked you for anything as an angel, but I’m asking now.  Angel or archangel, this reality’s version of you has to know something, and if he doesn’t, surely there’s someone else up in Heaven who can help us!  Please, will you try?”

            Castiel’s lips vanished into a thin line.  He nodded.  “Yes, of course.  I can’t guarantee he’ll see me, especially if he’s actually an archangel.  But I’ll try Adam.”

            “What if you just tell Cassiel that you’re sorry to intrude, but if you could have a moment of his time, it’s really very important you speak to him?” Winchester suggested.  “Think that would work?”

            “I suppose there’s only one way to find out,” Castiel announced.

            Then there was the sound of fluttering wings, and the angel was gone.

            “Man, I hate it when he does that!” Farrar complained.  He noticed Winchester’s bug-eyed expression and chuckled.  “Yeah, he fluttered off on us once before.  Our angel tends to fly away without warning, and…” 

            “So we can’t count on any divine assistance,” Winchester grumbled.  He looked gloomily at Farrar.  “Looks like it’s just you and me, buddy.”

            “He’ll come back,” Adam assured.  He’d slumped against his chair.  “I really hope I didn’t just get him into trouble, but there’s no doubt in my mind Castiel will come back.  He likes us. He’s invested!  And we can’t just rely on him all the time anyway.”

            “We could have used him now, though, Adam,” Farrar pointed out.  “He’s the only one who can tell us if any of this magic stuff we’re finding really works!”

            “We’ve made a lot of progress, though,” Winchester urged.  “Here, Adam, take a look at this.  I wish I’d gotten Castiel to look at it before he left!  We think we may have figured out the communication spell.”

            That got Adam’s attention.  He crowded with the two Sams at the computer, pulling up a chair to join them.  Farrar looked up, pushed back the unruly mop of dark hair that dangled in his blue eyes, and indicated the screen.  “I have no idea what language this is, but this site’s pretty sweet, if it’s real,” he explained.  “Whoever runs it actually puts the phonetic spellings right in there with the words.  It lets you know how to say the spell, as well as the English translation.  And the description here says it’s an obscure spell designed for contacting specific souls in the afterlife.”

            Adam deflated.  “Well, Blake’s not in the afterlife, Sammy.”

            “No,” Winchester picked up.  “But see, that’s the thing.  Here’s this.” He reached past Farrar for the mouse and brought up another screen.  “Same site, different spell.  This one is used to contact your own soul, to find out about past lives.  And if you compare the two, they’re just slightly different variances of the same spell.”

            “So what we did is combined aspects of the two and tweaked them to our purposes. And we’ve just finished it!” Farrar held up a notebook.  “How’s this look?”

            “I have no idea,” Adam declared.  “Ok, you’re right, we could have used a little divine guidance.  But we can always ask Castiel when he gets back. At least now we’ve got something! Now, even if Other Castiel or Cassiel or whoever our angel might meet up there refuses to help, we’ve at least done something to try to help ourselves!”  He grinned, grabbed each of the two by a shoulder, and gave them a shake.  “Way to go, guys!  You may have just finished our very first spell!”

            The two Sams basked in the praise.  “He figured out most of how to put them together,” Farrar offered, jerking a thumb at Winchester.

            “But you’re the one who found the site in the first place!” Winchester argued. “I have no idea how you found it.”

            Farrar shrugged.  “Mickey. Remember those friends he talked about? Well, I did a bit of digging among their social circle, and I found out some of their friends are into some serious stuff! We’re talking the occult and psychics, and that sort of thing?  So I gave them a call, they gave me a few leads on places to look that might have genuine magic spells.  Then I did some more digging around and I got lucky with this site.  But I never could have put everything together like Winchester did!  Dude’s a genius!”

            Winchester smiled.  “You’re not bad yourself, pal.”

            “Two Sams are better than one!” Adam declared.  “Now if we need to communicate, we can!  We can’t send me back, but there’s someone else here that we know for sure is going to be with Blake!”

            Winchester’s green eyes went wide when the other two turned to him.  “Me?” he squeaked.  He licked his lips anxiously.  “Um, yeah, I suppose I would be the best choice, wouldn’t I?  I, um, never really thought about that.  B-but this is just a contingency, right?  You don’t actually need to send me over there right now?”

            Adam smiled at him.  “Relax, buddy.  One, it’s not that bad, and two, no.  Much as I’d love to talk to Blake again, we should hold you in reserve.  When Castiel comes back, we’ll find out how we can help Blake.  Then we can send you over.  You can tell the other Winchesters how to help Blake and double-check, make sure everything’s still on track.  And of course, if anything goes wrong legal-wise before the full moon, you’re our ace in the hole!”

            “Plus, Other You is apparently the brains of the operation over there,” Farrar added.  “Castiel said he’s the one we needed to talk to, the one who’d be able to help Blake. So, like Adam said, you’re our ace in the hole, in more ways than one!”

            “But only if you’re willing,” Adam insisted, trying to school his features to not let his desperation show.  He knew Winchester was their best, and perhaps only, shot at saving Blake.  But it had to be the lawyer’s choice.

            Winchester looked from one to the other.  Then his shoulders straightened.  “It’s alright.  It just kind of surprised me, the idea that you could use me like that.  But it’s alright.  When the time comes, and you need me, I’ll go.”

            Adam let out his pent-up breath in a huge sigh of relief and clapped him on the back.  “Then I think we can actually relax a bit here, guys.  We still have to find hunters and warn them about that Crowley guy, and I know our angel’s worried about his link back.  But Blake said he’ll handle Dean.  I’ll help Castiel.  With that, it means we got a link, we got a power source, we know where and when to do this.  And now our angel’s going to get some help from the other angels, find out what we need to do to save Blake.  So, that covers all our bases!  When Castiel comes back, we’ll send Winchester over with instructions on how to help Blake.  And that’s it!  Seems to me, all we gotta do now is wait!”

            “This is usually the point something goes wrong,” Farrar grumbled.  He held up a hand, noting his front man’s expression. “I know, I know, glass half empty and all that.  But seriously, where’s our angel?  I hate that he’s gone somewhere we can’t possibly reach him by normal means.  I’m not going to relax until he’s back and he confirms this shit’s gonna work!”

            “Where’s our angel?” PJ unknowingly echoed as he came into the room.  “We wanted to talk to him, if he’s willing.”

            “He apparently flew off to Heaven,” Winchester told him.  “He’s going to ask the angels if they can help us find a way to help Blake with that soul drain.”

            PJ’s expression grew grave.  “Well, that’s good, honestly,” he declared.  “And not just for Blake, either.  We’ve been selfish.  Our angel’s got his own needs, his own business to attend to, and surely he’d like to spend a little time with his own kind.  Can’t always be hanging around with the mere mortals!  I told him we’d accommodate him if he needed to go.  Now it’s time to ante up on that.  He say when he’d be back?”

            “Afraid not.”

            PJ suddenly looked worried.  “He’s coming back, right?  Our angel’s not gone for good?”

            “He’ll be back,” Adam chuckled.  “Everyone calm down.  Our angel just went to check out something Winchester thought of that I should have, something that might just help us all out.”

            PJ visibly relaxed.  “I’m a selfish man, Adam,” he said humbly.  “I know Castiel isn’t here for me.  Hell, he’s not here for any of us, except maybe you.  But he’s our angel in more ways than one.  He saved your life for sure, Adam, and probably ours as well! And the way he’s helped us out and kept us safe ever since?  I gotta tell you, this has been the experience of a lifetime!”

            “I get that,” Winchester offered.  Adam was amused to note that his face bore the same wide-eyed wonder as PJ’s.  “I just met him, but come on!  An actual angel!  Walking, talking proof of the divine?  Talk about a blessing from God!  You can’t be near him and not think that God has somehow tapped you for something big, something important!”  He chuckled. “And then his personality, the way he just seems almost like a kid sometimes?  It’s hard not to get attached to him, you know?”

            “Oh, I certainly do!”  PJ shook his head.  “Like I said, I’m a selfish man, and I’m not ready to give him up yet.  Not without having one more talk and getting a chance to say goodbye!”

            “You’ll get your chance,” Adam assured.  “Our angel’s coming back when he’s ready, alright?  For now, how about we all go downstairs and relax a bit?”

            PJ headed downstairs.  Winchester, realizing he was still in the same wrinkled dress shirt and pants he’d fallen asleep in last night, elected for a shower.  Farrar pulled Adam aside.  “Hey, Adam?” he began.  “I’m worried about him.”

            “Who?  Winchester?”

            Farrar nodded.  “I don’t think that guy slept more than a few hours last night.  We were up until the asscrack of dawn putting that spell together, but he got a call last night from his wife.  Sam didn’t raise his voice, and I, you know, didn’t eavesdrop.  But what I could hear?  It sounded pretty tense.  Then he came back out and threw himself into our work, barely saying a word until you and Castiel came in.”  Farrar rubbed the back of his neck.  “I want to help, but I don’t know what to say to the guy.  Think maybe you can try to talk to him?”

            “Yeah, sure.”  Adam frowned towards the sound of the shower.  “Thanks for the heads-up.”

            Farrar nodded.  Then they both headed downstairs.

            The band was gathered in the living room.  Mickey was passing out drinks.  Jesse and James were smack talking each other over a video game, while Matt dozed on the couch.  PJ and Sam immediately positioned themselves near the gamers with Mickey and started making fun of them both, egging them on in their competition.  Somehow, Matt slept through it all.

            Adam hovered until he spotted Winchester’s lanky figure coming down the stairs.  Freshly scrubbed and in casual clothes, the lawyer looked acutely uncomfortable.  He appeared to be trying to look everywhere at once.  Adam grabbed him and gave him a quick tour of the house and grounds.  That did the trick.  Winchester was much more relaxed by the time they wound up in the studio, where the lawyer’s eyes immediately went to the piano.  “You play?” Adam asked, noting this.

            Winchester blushed.  “N-not really.  I just dabble, honestly.  I took some lessons in college, but the truth is, I mostly did it because my future wife was in the class.”

            “Dude, I get that!”  Adam patted the taller man on the shoulder.  “Anything to impress a cute girl, right?”  He paused.  “I’m sorry to hear you’re having trouble there, buddy.  It’s not my place to pry, but if you want to talk, well, I’ve had my share of relationship troubles.”

            Adam got smile in return.  Then the green eyes returned to the piano.

            Adam gave him a little push.  “Go ahead, tickle the ivories.”

            Once again, the lawyer blushed.  He brushed back his hair, now disheveled and completely devoid of styling product.  Adam had noted how much he resembled his other self now, the one he’d briefly glimpsed on his visit to the other world. Winchester seemed to take a breath. Then he shyly slid onto the bench. He ran his long fingers over the keys without playing anything and looked up at Adam, his lips forming a slight smile.  “I’m kind of self-conscious,” he admitted.  “You’re used to professionals like PJ!”

            “I won’t make fun of you,” Adam promised.  “Go ahead!”

            The lawyer hesitated a moment longer.  Then he gingerly started playing.

            Adam moved over, listening.  “What’s that?”

            “It’s called ‘The Wisdom of Snow,’” Winchester replied.  “It’s by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra.”

            Adam listened a bit more.  The song was lovely, and did indeed put him in mind of falling snow.  Then it changed, going into something deeper, more mournful before returning to the lighter melody.  “You’re not half bad,” he declared.

            Winchester winced, hitting an off chord.  “Yeah, there went that theory.”

            Adam laughed.  “Hey, it’s fine!  I do this for a living, and you think I never make mistakes?”  He squeezed onto the edge of the piano bench, watching as Winchester continued to play.  “You like this kind of music?”

            Winchester shrugged.  “It’s alright.  The wife likes the more classical sound, so…”  He smiled as Adam chuckled.  “Personally, I prefer something a bit more modern.  Little Ricky Marx?”

            The piano now played a familiar melody.  Adam smiled, keeping time on his thigh with a finger as the lawyer finished with the intro.  _“Oceans apart, day after day, and I slowly go insane. I hear your voice on the line, but it doesn’t stop the pain.  If I see you next to never, then how can we say forever?  Wherever you go, whatever you do I will be right here waiting for you. Whatever it takes, or how my heart breaks I will be right here waiting for you.”_

            Winchester had faltered a bit when Adam started singing.  But Adam had reached up to gently squeeze his shoulder in encouragement, and he’d quickly recovered.  A smile of delight spread over the lawyer’s features as he continued to play.

            _“I took for granted all the times that I thought would last somehow.  I hear the laughter, I taste the tears, but I can’t get near you now.  Oh can’t you see it baby?  You’ve got me going crazy!”_

            And now Adam faltered.  His hand tightened again on the lawyer’s shoulder, causing Winchester to glance sharply over.  But he kept playing, frequently stealing looks at Adam as he played through the chorus. Adam closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and picked up on the bridge.

            _“I wonder how we can survive this romance? But in the end, if I’m with you, I’ll take the chance!”_

            He ached for Blake.  The emptiness his husband left behind had become a physical pain.  Adam swayed a little to the music, came back in on the chorus and finished the song.  And he didn’t realize until Winchester shouted and grabbed him that he’d actually passed out for a moment, that his emotions had reached the point where Adam had simply toppled over.  Now he chuckled, patted the anxious lawyer as he crouched near him on the floor, fumbling for his phone.  “I’m ok, buddy,” Adam said.  “No need to call an ambulance just yet!  It’s just… That song, it could be the theme song for all four of us, especially now!  Castiel, the way he longs for his Righteous Man?  If Dean feels even half of that, those two are just meant to be! And Blake and I?  It took so damned long for us to get to the point where we could finally be together, and he agreed to give us a try!  You don’t even know, man!”

            “You’re right,” Winchester agreed, moving to sit on the floor next to Adam. “I don’t know.  But I’m willing to listen, if you’d like to talk about it?”

            Adam smiled at him.  But it quickly faded.  “It was torture,” he confessed.  “Sheer torture.  Day after day, I’d go spend time with Blake.  He’d let me take him on dates and stuff, hold his hand, that sort of thing. He even let me kiss him a time or two, which made me happier than you can imagine!  But honestly, for the most part?  When we first started dating, it wasn’t any different than what we’d always done.  And I knew he felt awkward about it, now that he knew I had some real emotion behind it. Then when people found out we were dating, well, some of them were real dicks about it.  Especially Blake’s agent!  Merl Brandon still causes shit with me.”

            “I heard.”  The lawyer’s green eyes were full of sympathy.  “What a dick.  But a lot of people were.  It’s one of the things I always admired about the two of you, that you went through that and came out stronger.”

            “It took a while, though,” Adam sighed.  “I imagine it was especially hard on Blake.  But Blake could seal off his emotions better than anyone I’d ever met. I mean, we are talking armor that was impervious, right?   No matter what I said or did, I just could not get through.  I couldn’t get a read on him!  I’d look into those gorgeous blue eyes of his, and they were like glaciers! I had no idea what he really thought. I’d ask, and he’d just flash those dimples at me and tell me not to worry about it.  But he said the same thing when I’d try to ask about us, our relationship.  What the hell did that even mean?  I really thought I had no chance, you know?”

            Winchester nodded stiffly.  Adam belatedly realized that he’d instinctively slung an arm around the lawyer’s neck and tucked his head under the taller man’s chin, much like he’d always done with Blake.  Winchester seemed frozen, obviously uncomfortable.  Adam chuckled and let go of him.  “I’m a clingy bastard and I overshare,” he announced.  “You didn’t sign on for this.”

            “Huh?  No, I... It’s ok,” Winchester called.  His eyes were flickering anxiously, but he put his arm around Adam.  “I’ll admit I’m not used to it, but I’m fine.  But what you were telling me?  I’d actually like to hear how it ended.  I mean, I know how it ended, I know you married him, but how’d you get to that point? How’d you work things out, when they were that bad?”

            Of course he’d want to know.  It was, Adam realized, the implications of Adam’s story that was making Winchester react, not his actions.  Alright then. Adam pulled his legs up, leaning heavily on the lawyer, and watched him without being obvious about it.  But the lawyer simply stayed as he was, head cocked in a posture of listening, waiting for Adam to continue.  That made Adam feel good.  It wasn’t often he found people who could tolerate the level of tactile contact he craved, especially when he was feeling emotional.  The fact that Winchester was putting up with him now, even encouraging him by putting his arm around Adam, spoke volumes as to the lawyer’s character.  Adam smiled and picked up where he left off.  “Blake asked me to meet him in a park and talk,” he recalled.  “And I thought that was it, you know?  That he was going to let me down gently in a public place so I wouldn’t flip out too much on him.  And I was trying to prepare for that.  Trying to figure out if life was still going to be worth living without him! What I was going to do, how I’d go on from there.  I’d honestly pretty much decided that it wouldn’t be worth trying.  And that was the state of mind I was in when I met him at that park.  I was a bit surprised to see he’d brought along his guitar!  And then he started to sing me a song.”  He chuckled, shaking his head.  “It was like he had to sing what he still couldn’t let himself say! That song, it was about loving me from afar.  Then he slung the guitar across his back, dropped to his knees, took my hand, and proposed to me, right there at the park with complete strangers looking on!  And I realized then what he’d realized.  I’d come to recognize it first, what we had between us.  And I’d made the first move.  But Blake’s the one who loved me first.  Am I making sense here?”  Adam twisted, looking earnestly up at Winchester.  “Blake loved me first!  Because we were always meant to be together.  I believed then, and I believe now, that we’re soulmates.  The two of us, we’re made for each other!  No matter where he is, even in another reality?  I believe we’re still connected.  And the only real regret I had is that I took so long to make that first move!”

            Winchester smiled at him.  “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

            “Thank you for listening!”  He shyly ducked his head.  “You know, I’m sure you’re a great lawyer and all, buddy, but have you ever thought about being a counselor of some kind?  You listen better than anyone I know except Blake!”

            “Tell that to my wife,” Winchester sighed.  Now it almost seemed as if he was leaning on Adam as they both sat against the piano bench.  “She told me that I never listen to her anymore, never let her in.  And she’s right, of course.  I put her and the kids on the back burner for so long that I was barely in their lives!”

            Adam frowned.  “And now you’re out here with me?”

            “Best place for me,” the lawyer sighed.  “Lately, every time we talk, we fight.  She called me last night after she got my message I was coming out here, and surprise, another fight!  She’s been staying with her mother for the past few weeks because it’s nothing but tension at the house.  And the kids! My youngest has been wetting the bed, my oldest has been acting up at school...”  He shook his head.  “We all need a cooling-off period, a chance to get our heads together.  I need to decide exactly what I want in my life! Pretty much the only thing I’ve thought about has been work.  But while I love my job, it just doesn’t fulfill me.”  He sighed, his green eyes full of pain.  “I miss my wife, Adam.  I miss what we used to have.”

            “Not too late to change,” Adam declared.  “They say the first step’s admitting you’re wrong, and you got that. Maybe give her a call, tell her you’re sorry?”

            “Maybe.”  Winchester was quiet for a long moment.  Adam stayed as he was, both of them lost in their thoughts.  Then the lawyer got to his feet and pulled Adam up after him.  “I think, after talking to you, that I’ve made a decision,” Winchester declared.  “I’ve decided I’m not ready to give up on my marriage.  What you said, about soulmates?  I feel that with her, Adam!  When I was with her, it felt like we were meant to be!  Then my life happened and came between us, but I never stopped loving her, you know?  We didn’t used to be like that.  We had something, something special.  I’d like to have that again.”

            Adam looked up.  “Ok, your turn to share, then.  What changed?”

            “My brother,” Winchester said simply.  “When Dean died, I threw myself into my work and shut everything else out, including her.  I thought it was the right thing to do.  I mean, I was helping people, right?  But Castiel was right.  What I was doing, I was doing out of guilt!”

            Adam shifted uncomfortably.  “Listen, buddy, I know Castiel’s an angel, and this probably sounds kind of stupid, contradicting what he said.  But he really had no right to say it.  I think he was hurt and angry, and in that moment, at least, he was all too human. How the hell can your brother’s death be your fault?  You didn’t get him drunk, or put him in that car!”

            “Because I should have helped him!” Winchester insisted.  “I failed my brother, Adam, and in failing him, I also failed everyone else around me.  I need to find a way, even if I can’t make it right, to at least make it better!”  He smiled down at Adam.  “But not until we figure out what to do for you!  Come on, let’s find the others and come up with a plan.”

            Adam followed the lanky lawyer back out.  His mind was on what Winchester had said, about how he’d failed everyone around him.  Ouch! Adam’s heart went out to the lawyer. No one should carry that kind of burden. Adam still had issues with what his angel had said to Winchester, and he intended to talk to Castiel about it when he returned.  Angel or not, it had been cruel, and now Winchester was obviously suffering deeply for it.  When this was over, Adam vowed, he’d try to keep Winchester on, or at least stay in touch, and try to find a way to help the lawyer regain what he’d lost. Apparently, losing his brother had affected him deeply.  Adam had a sister, but they weren’t nearly as close as Winchester and his brother seemed to be.  Still, the thought of losing her made his stomach churn.  He caught sight of his band mates and thought about losing any of them.  Now he wanted to throw up.  Yes, he decided, Winchester was getting some TLC after this.  Anything Adam and Blake could do to help him.  Adam still had the number from Blake’s counselor that he’d seen after his divorce.  She was great.  Adam knew that because he’d driven Blake to so many of his appointments, then heard about them afterwards.  She was based in L.A., but she could surely reach out, find a counselor of quality in Kansas for Winchester?  Then he could visit, check up on the lawyer when he was in Oklahoma.  It was the least Adam could do.

            Then it finally dawned on Adam how quiet his normally-boisterous band was.  Adam looked up, jarred from his thoughts, and focused on the two strangers in his living room, dressed head to toe in black, wearing Goth make-up.  “Adam?” Mickey called.  “These two are called Sorrow and Hurt.  They’re witches, and they’re here to help us with some spells.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun named Sorrow and Hurt. When he realized the author had actually used the names he'd tossed up as a joke, he just said "Interesting. Dammit, I contributed to your story, I gotta stop doing that." Remembers the video where Jared played that song. Liked the songs.
> 
> Trivia Time!  
> This is the video Mr. Fun is referencing. What happened was, it was the first time that Jared (Sam) and Misha (Cass) ever did a panel together, alone and unsupervised. That was a mistake. It appears that Jared was once again under the influence here and he got annoyed at about the 9 minute mark when the questions kept going to Misha instead of him. So, he went back to the keyboard the band had mistakenly left on and started playing. Misha, being Misha, went right along with it for a while. But Jared kept doing it, despite multiple attempts to get him to stop, and then get him off the stage. Even when Jensen (Dean) came out and flat-out said he was there to relieve Jared, he returned to the piano and kept up the annoying noises until Jensen finally got fed up at about 34:30 and pulled the plug. And even THEN he kept playing! This is apparently not unusual. But during all this, at one point (12:15) someone mentioned Dean and Cass, and Jared started playing "Right Here Waiting." Afterwards, he announces, "I love Dean and Cass!"  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pg31YxvGVV8


	20. Spellwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two witches make their offer, and outline what they want in return

            Right from the start, Adam was skeptical.  He excused himself for a moment and dragged Mickey aside to talk to him. “Sorrow and Hurt?” he whispered to Mickey.  “Seriously? Dude, these two look more like those weird kids that hung out in the lunch room and smoked joints than actual witches!”

            “I know, but according to all my sources, these two are legit!” Mickey insisted. “They’re willing to help us in exchange for our angel.”

            “Yeah, well, they’re not getting him!  They’re not even getting a _look_ at Castiel until I get some real proof they’re what they say they are, ok?” Adam insisted.  “And if they do anything at all to fuck with our angel...?!”

            Mickey’s face darkened.  “Dude, you know I’m not going to let them try anything stupid!  But Castiel’s willing, and let’s face it, even he says he’s not a witch.  These two are the real deal!”  He shook his head.  “Come on, Adam, Farrar filled us in, ok?  Our angel isn’t even here right now!  These two assholes can’t hurt him, and if they try, they’ll have all seven of us on their asses!  What’s it going to hurt to let them take a look at our spells?”

            Adam ground his teeth.  “Alright,” he agreed.  “But they’re doing it on the understanding that the only thing I’ll guarantee is that they can _talk_ to Castiel!  Anything more is up to him on a point by point basis. And they will _never_ be left alone unsupervised with our angel!  I want that to be very clear!”

            “Adam?” Mickey said patiently.  “I know I may have the lowest IQ in this band, but two things.  One, I’m not completely stupid.  And two, like you just said, Castiel is _our_ angel.  Because he’s my angel, too, alright?!”  The bassist’s voice had devolved to a low growl.  “He didn’t just come to you, Adam.  He came to all of us!  And whatever he means to you, well, he means something to me, too!  I don’t think any of us are going to be the same now that we’ve met him, and I sure as hell am not going to let anyone fucking dissect him! So back.  The fuck.  Off! Ok?”

            Adam blinked.  He raised his hands and backed off.  “I’m sorry, man,” he apologized.  “I guess I got too used too fast to having Castiel around, and what he could do for me. He’s what kept me going through all this, you know?  He’s always been our invincible, powerful angel, but witches?”  He shook his head.  “Maybe I’m paranoid, but the way he talked made it seem like these fuckers could really do something to him!  And that scares the shit out of me, Mickey.  The idea that someone might hurt him makes me want to throw up, you know?”

            “Yeah, I do know,” Mickey replied calmly.  “Because the rest of us feel the same way!  You’re not the only one he’s helped.  And you’re not even the only one he’s saved!  We were _all_ up on that stage, wide open, when that fucker started shooting!  Castiel has been protecting all of us, and in case you forgot, we’ve all been hurting, too, and felt that angel valium he’s got!  We all get it!  You think we don’t all feel exactly what you’re feeling now?!”

            “Point taken,” Adam said humbly, raising his hands.  “Mickey, I’m sorry.  This whole thing’s got me tied in knots, but the rest of you are feeling it, too. Bottom line, I trust you, brother. I always have, and I’m sorry if my own insecurities made it seem like I didn’t.”  He slapped his friend on the arm and gave him a smile.  “We cool?”

            Mickey nodded.  “Yeah, buddy, we’re cool.  Now come on. Let’s go hear what Sorrow and Hurt have to say.”

            The two Goths were already at work.  Farrar and Winchester had produced the work they’d already done, but the witches had done little more than glance at it.  The bulk of their attention appeared to be reserved for the original spell glyphs that were still present on the living room floor.  Adam had instructed the cleaning staff to clean around them and had protected them with a large rug, fearful that any disturbance in the glyphs might somehow hinder Blake’s return.  Now he was glad he’d taken the precaution.  “This is amazing,” Hurt was saying.  He was walking around the glyphs, filming with his cell phone. “Some seriously powerful spell work!”

            “It would have had to be in conjunction with something else to work, though,” Sorrow insisted.  Her eyes caught Adam as he hovered in the doorway.  “Did the angel have a hex bag, by chance?”

            Adam nodded.  “Yeah, he did.  But we don’t have it.  Blake had it in his pocket by mistake, and that’s what ended up sending him over the rainbow instead of Castiel.”

            The two exchanged a puzzled glance.  “That doesn’t make sense,” Sorrow declared.  “If the angel used it, I could see that working because he could use his Grace to power the spell.  But how could a mere mortal do that?”

            “It was a powerful hex bag, but Castiel said the same thing, that there wasn’t enough power,” Matt supplied.  “He said that’s created a problem with Blake on the other side, because there was something in the bag that was supposed to siphon off some of our angel’s Grace. Now it’s siphoning Blake’s soul!”

            The two witches exchanged another look.  “Do they know about the siphon on the other side?” Sorrow asked.

            Adam looked at his band, who were looking among themselves.  “Our angel told Other Adam that Blake’s soul wasn’t intact,” PJ recalled.

            “Yeah, but Other Adam was seriously freaked out and couldn’t follow much,” James added.  “So all Castiel could tell him was that Blake’s soul wasn’t intact.  So no, they might not know exactly what’s happening with Blake.”

            “That’s bad,” Hurt declared.  “That’s real bad, especially if Blake is still carrying that hex bag!”

            “Um, actually Castiel said that the spell was designed to keep siphoning.  Even if the bag’s destroyed, it will keep going until the spell gets cast or Blake comes home,” Jesse recalled.

            Now the two witches looked grave.  Hurt turned to Adam.  “Then I’m sorry,” he said, “but no human soul could stand up under something like that for a month!  If Blake’s not dead already, he will be soon.”

            That caused an uproar.  “No way!” Adam yelled over the din.  “I refuse to accept that!  There has got to be a way to help him, so tell me what we need to do, and I’ll do it! How do we stop this spell from killing Blake?”

            “You don’t,” Sorrow declared.  “All you could do with a spell like that is try to choke it off.  And to do that, you’d need someone in that universe to find the siphon and cast a new spell on it to slow the process, buy some time to get him back home.  But even if you did choke off the spell, the victim’s soul couldn’t recover, because that spell would still be draining it!  He’d have to have a boost of some sort, some outside source of power, to replenish him. I’m sorry, but what you’re asking, it isn’t possible.”

            “Yes it is!”

            Every eye turned to Winchester.  The lawyer looked around, meeting all of their eyes in turn.  “You can send me,” he offered.  “Teach me the spell to choke off the soul siphon.  Then just do that other spell, the one we came up with to communicate with the other reality?  I-it will put my soul in my other self’s body, right?  Do that, and I’ll find whatever is draining Blake and cast this spell to choke it off!  Then I’ll let D-”  He swallowed. “I’ll let them all know that they need to talk to that Crowley guy to find a way to replenish Blake, so he makes it to the full moon.  I’ll do it all!”

            Everyone exchanged glances.  The two goths were nodding.  “That could work,” Hurt admitted.

            “Hey, yeah!”

            “Winchester could do it.”

            “He could switch bodies just like Adam did!”

            “And he’s right there with Blake on the other side!”

            “It’s perfect!”

            “It’s dangerous!” Sorrow warned.  She scowled at the group, her hands imperiously on her hips.  “This spell, I’ve never seen anything like it.  You’re absolutely sure that there’s another version of hot tall guy over there, and that he’ll be close enough to do this?  He’ll only have a few minutes, and if anything goes wrong, he could die in both realities!”

            “Believe me, we are absolutely positive that Sam Winchester is on both sides,” Adam declared.  His eyes were on Winchester, seeing the lawyer pale at the news he might die in two worlds.  “But it’s completely up to you, man.”

            “I’ll do it.”  Winchester didn’t even hesitate.  “Blake’s life is at stake.  There’s no other choice!  So teach me the spell, tell me what to look for, and then send me!”

            Sorrow raised her hands and shook her head.  “I won’t be a part of this,” she declared.

            “Me either,” Hurt added above the exclamations of dismay from the band.  “We’ll give you the spell, because a life is at stake here. But you’re doing it all yourselves! We won’t be responsible.  Too much can go wrong!  We won’t take lives!”

            “Then what good are you, exactly?!” Adam snapped.

            Mickey straightened.  “Adam!”

            “No, it’s a fair question.”  Hurt narrowed his eyes at Adam.  “Tell you what, Levine.  You get a better offer, Sorrow and I go on our way.  But from where I’m standing, assuming he survives to the full moon, we are the only ones who can get him back to this reality.  So here is the deal.  Give us the angel, let us talk to him.  You have our word that Sorrow and I won’t do anything to hurt him.  All we want is to talk a bit, take a few samples for spells later, and we’ll let him go.  Your friends here already insisted they be with us, and we’re cool with that. In exchange, we’ll take this spell you’ve got here, and correct it so you can use it to get the angel and Blake back into the right universes again.  But as it stands now, this spell will not work!”  He waved towards the glyphs.  “That would work for a hex bag, but you don’t have that bag.  So what, exactly, are you planning on using to fuel the spells on both sides and form the link?”

            “We’ve got our angel to fuel our spell,” Adam told them.  “And our link will be personal, based on deep emotional connection.  I’ve got my link with Blake, and Castiel, well, he’s got someone on the other side, too, just like I have Blake.”

            Sorrow’s eyes grew wide.  “An emotional bond that transcends worlds!  That’s genius!”

            Hurt was nodding.  “We can work with that, assuming they got power for the other side.  They’ve got another angel or something?”

            “We’re sure they’ve got something,” Adam agreed.  “Castiel sent them a message the last time they used the communication spell and talked through me.”

            “Which brings up the subject of payment,” Hurt called.

            “He already told you!” Matt snapped, suddenly annoyed.  “You’ll get to talk to our angel when he comes back!”

            “And we’ll decide on those ‘samples’ you want to take on a case-by-case basis,” PJ added.

            “Wasn’t talking about that,” Hurt retorted, narrowing his eyes.  “The angel is our payment for the spell to open that portal, and it’s non-negotiable.  You want the spell, you will give us access to Castiel!  But you still need another spell to choke off that soul siphon.  We don’t do that kind of work for free!  You want it, you’re going to pay us for it.”

            “Fine,” Adam snapped, reaching for his wallet.  “How much?”

            “Keep your money,” Hurt called, waving his black nails negligently.  “The only thing we’re interested in is spell components.  And for that?  We want you!”  He pointed at Adam.

            Adam blinked.  “Me?”

            “You, and the tall guy over there.”  Now he was pointing at Winchester, who cocked an eyebrow. “Levine, you’re our advance payment, he’s the rest.”

            Now everyone was exchanging concerned looks.

            “Oh, calm down, we’re not stealing their souls!”  Sorrow was up and coming towards Adam, digging in her purse.  “For our first payment, we’ll take a sample of your blood.  The blood of someone who’s traveled to another reality is powerful!”

            “I don’t know about that,” Jesse warned.

            “It’s ok,” Adam assured, his eyes on Winchester.  “You want my blood, take it.  Winchester makes his own choice.  Sam, what do you say, buddy?”

            “You said the blood of someone who’s traveled to another universe is powerful,” Winchester recalled.  “I assume that’s why you’re willing to wait for me?  Because you want my blood after I travel?”

            “You got it.  We’ll get that spell to you in a day or so.  Do what you gotta do, and when you come back, assuming you survive, we’ll take a sample from you.”  Hurt nodded at Winchester.  “We’ll consider that payment in full.  Agree?”

            Winchester nodded.  “I agree.”

            Hurt clapped his hands.  “Great! Now, where is the angel, exactly?”

            “Heaven, I guess?  I don’t actually know,” Adam admitted.  He eyed Sorrow as she opened her purse to expose a blood draw kit.  “Who carries a blood draw kit in her purse?  Do you do this a lot?”

            “Enough,” she said.  “This, blood from the two of you, will cover the cost of the spell you’ll need to choke off that siphon.  But we want Castiel if you want help with your portal!  And you’ll need our help!  That’s not a spell an inexperience spellcaster should use.  You need us, and we’ll only do it if we can have access to the angel first.”  She narrowed her eyes at the glyphs on the floor and shook her head.  “We’re still going to need to do a lot of work, because that spell will need altered.”

            “And altered quite a bit, actually,” Hurt admitted, looking at the glyphs. “It’s going to take some time. We’ll put a rush on it, since you’ll have to do this on the full moon and that’s coming up fast.  And we’ll get you the spell you’ll need to choke off that siphon before you leave.  It’s actually a fairly simple one you can cast yourselves.  That part will be up to you.”  He narrowed his eyes.  “Just don’t fuck us over.  We _will_ have that angel, or we won’t help with your portal!”

            This was met with a room full of hostile stares. 

            “So much for being worried about a life being at stake, huh?” Matt snapped.

            “We didn’t send him to another universe, asshole,” Sorrow snapped back. “Castiel is an angel from another universe!  To a witch, that’s worth a life.  So honestly, be glad we’re willing to help just for some limited contact with him. Because I know of a few witches who would just try to take him outright!”

            PJ stiffened.  “Is that a threat?!”

            “Of course not,” Hurt sighed.  “But it is a warning.  You guys don’t seem to understand just how valuable Castiel really is to our community! We did what we could to keep the knowledge under wraps, and we’ll watch the more radical members among us.  But we’re hardly the only group that’s interested. All we’re saying is, watch your asses. We’re no threat, alright?  But you can’t fault us for wanting our shot at that angel!”

            “You’ll get to see him,” Mickey grumbled.  “Only because I got assured you two were trustworthy!”

            “And because of that, I’ll tell you that to cast a spell, you need two things – focus and intent,” Hurt told him.  “Your mind needs to be completely focused on what you’re doing.  And you can’t cast a spell by mistake!  You have to intend for the effect to take place.” He shrugged.  “Any one of you could cast that spell to send tall guy over. All you need to do is concentrate and want it to happen.”

            Mickey blinked in surprise.  “That’s it?”

            “That’s it.  Of course, actual magical ability helps,” Hurt admitted.  “But that’s why I can cast a powerful spell without nearly as much preparation, and you’re going to struggle with the most basic of hexes!”

            Sorrow was eyeing the tube of blood she’d just taken from Adam’s arm with an expression that looked disturbingly like lust.  Adam watched her, feeling uneasy as she twirled the tube in her hand.  Somehow, it felt like he’d just made a mistake.  Oh well, nothing to be done for it now.

            “We’ll be in touch,” Sorrow called.  “Especially with you, Winchester!  We got us a date, hot stuff!”  She winked at Winchester, who stared passively back at her.  Sorrow seemed unconcerned.  She dropped the tube into her purse and slipped her arm through Hurt’s.  “Gentlemen? Good day!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks M5 was pretty dumb for letting the witches take Adam’s blood. Worse because they’re also giving him Sam’s! Doesn’t trust them with Castiel.


	21. Underneath the Same Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam is feeling the effects of the spell draining Blake and is convinced his husband is near death. Now Sam Winchester is the only one who can help!

            Sam Winchester, Attorney at Law, had never had anything handed to him.  With his father a drunk and his mother usually absent, his older brother had stepped into the role of both parents.  But while Dean had done his best, he was in no way able to really shoulder the burdens of raising a child.  Even at a young age, Sam had understood that.  He’d been self-aware enough to understand that if he wanted something, the only recourse was to get it himself.  As a result, he’d long ago learned to be independent.  Fortunately, he’d been blessed with a quick, sharp mind, as well as an attention to detail that served him well as a lawyer.  After Dean had died, he’d thrown himself into his work.  That had gotten him promoted from an associate to a partner in record time, but had cost him his relationship with his wife.  Sam wanted a chance to save his marriage.  His wife was willing to try, and she’d agreed to meet with him after the full moon.  But Adam didn’t need to know that the two of them were already in the initial stages of a divorce, and that she’d taken the children and moved to her mother’s.  Adam had enough on his plate.  No need to add to it.

            Unfortunately, that meant that Adam didn’t understand why Sam was so willing to participate in the communication spell, especially without their angel around to help.  They hadn’t seen or heard a thing from Castiel since Adam had asked him to go to Heaven and talk to the other angels.  And three days after he’d disappeared, Castiel’s continued absence was starting to worry them all.  But it didn’t matter.  Hurt and Sorrow had come through with the spell to slow the soul siphon and save Blake. They’d delivered the spell, instructions on how to use it, and their insistence on speaking with Castiel and obtaining a tube of blood from Sam “in the event he survives.”  That hadn’t been comforting, but nothing to be done for it. Maroon 5 had already canceled any and all plans they had up through the full moon.  They all wanted to be there to the end.  And once they got the spell, they threw themselves into studying it, gathering up the ingredients needed and preparing everything they needed to cast it.

            Now, Sam knew, everything rested on him.

            Adam hadn’t fared well the last three days. Every day, he looked more and more pale and drawn.  They were all worried about him.  They stayed close to him, all but forcing the singer to eat and rest.  But Adam mostly just picked at food, and while he’d lay down when his friends insisted, he usually just stared, wide-eyed, into space. Adam looked sick, and they all knew the reason why.  Sam took it personally.  If he couldn’t save Blake, the country singer would likely die, and Adam might never recover. The weight of that was heavy on Sam’s shoulders.  He was determined to see it through.

            Since the witches had left with their highly-comforting remarks, Maroon 5 had been looking at Sam like he was marked for death. Adam especially seemed worried. He couldn’t sit still for longer than two minutes at most.  While the entire band was here in Adam’s living room, watching and helping with the spell when they could, the singer was pacing around, constantly hovering near Sam.  Sam was busy with Sam Farrar.  The two of them worked at the glyphs while Jesse kept close watch, comparing their work against the sheet supplied by the two witches.  Sam was grateful that Farrar was an artist.  While Sam’s own attention to detail enabled him to create the glyphs, it was painstaking work for him.  Farrar was almost able to complete two glyphs in the time it took Sam to create one.

            It didn’t help when a pair of motorcycle boots was constantly threatening to mess them up.  “Adam, I’m going to need you to step back,” he called for about the fourth time.

            “Dammit, Winchester, I can’t let you do this!” Adam exclaimed.  “Bad enough that I guilted Castiel into going to Heaven.  Now he’s missing!  What the hell happened to him?”

            “He’ll be back,” James soothed.  The calmness in the guitarist’s voice and his relaxed posture belied the worry in his eyes, the dark circles they all sported from sleepless nights.  “Castiel will come back.  Just give him time!”

            “My point is, we can’t help our angel if something’s really wrong,” Adam insisted.  “And now we’re planning to send our lawyer to another universe?!” The singer was actually wringing his hands now.  “You guys said Castiel nearly took off other me’s head when we switched bodies.  Now we’re going to send Winchester over there to surprise a couple of monster hunters!”

            Sam looked up.  “Did they attack you when you went over there, Adam?”

            “No, they didn’t attack me, but they were expecting me over there!  This time, we have no way to warn them you’re coming, we’ve got fuck all to make sure we’re even doing this right, no one has any idea what we’re really doing…”  Adam groaned.  “Holy shit, dude, this is suicide!”

            “No it’s not,” Sam insisted, looking up at him. “Sorrow and Hurt looked this spell over, and they said it should work.”

            “Two things,” Adam declared.  “One, the operative word there is ‘should.’  And two, if one of them was here casting it, or if our angel was around, we’d at least have someone here who has any idea what the fuck they’re doing!  Instead, you got seven ass clowns who, prior to meeting Castiel, thought magic was a fucking card game!  It’s crazy, buddy, and I’m putting a stop to it.”

            Sam stood up to his full height, looming over the anxious front man.  “It’s my choice,” he told him.  “Adam, I’m the only one who can do this.  There won’t be much time, and I’m the only one who has a double on the other side we’re absolutely positive will be with Blake.  It’s got to be me!  And you heard what the witches said!  If we don’t choke off this draining spell, Blake is going to die!  Even if we do choke it off, someone’s got to warn them, get some help for Blake.  According to what you told me, Castiel’s got a guy over there, this Crowley, that he doesn’t like but is apparently able to do the job?”

            “You mean the King of Hell?” Mickey called. “Not exactly grade A qualifications, Winchester!”

            “Whatever, it doesn’t matter!” Sam insisted.  “They can decide for themselves if they want to go to him.  But Adam? They can’t decide anything if they have no idea what is going on!”

            “He’s right, Adam.”  It was PJ.  The son of a Baptist minister had spent the past hour in prayer.  He still had his cross amulet in his hand.  “Winchester knows the risks.”

            “He’s got a family!” Adam protested.

            “So do you,” Jesse called, not looking up from his sheet.  “His name is Blake Shelton, and he needs you, badly!  Winchester’s right, Adam.  He’s the only one who can do this!”

            “Adam?”  Sam clasped the shorter man’s shoulder and gave him a smile.  “All my life, I’ve done exactly what I was supposed to do. I’ve always played the game, climbed the ladder.  Never in all my life have I ever really put myself out on a limb.  The most dangerous thing I’ve ever done was going into prisons to talk to clients under arrest, ok?  B-but I became a defense lawyer in the first place because I want to help others! I’m the guy who stands up and talks for someone who maybe isn’t able to speak for themselves, to tell their side of the story and ensure they get a fair shake.  What I’m doing here?  It’s a lot more dangerous, sure, but it’s the same thing!”

            Adam frantically shook his head.  “Dude…!”

            Sam shook his head.  “Let me do this.  It’s what I do, Adam.  And I honestly think that I was meant to do it.  It feels somehow right, you know?”

            “Everything happens for a reason,” PJ agreed. “Winchester, I’ll pray for you the entire time you’re gone, until you’re safely back.”

            “Thank you,” Sam said humbly.  “I appreciate that.  I really do.  But meanwhile?”  Sam took Adam’s shoulders, turned him around, and gently yet forcefully pushed the singer out the door.  “Go out, get some fresh air, and calm down!”

            Adam meekly went outside.

            Farrar stepped closer and looked at him.  “You scared?” he asked in a low voice.  “You can tell me the truth, brother.  You and I have spent enough time together that I think we’re friends.”

            “We are.  And the truth is, I’ve already thrown up twice,” Sam confessed.  “I can’t recall ever being more terrified in my life!  But I’ll do this.”  His eyes returned to Adam, who was visible out the window, standing still and looking up at the sky.  “I’ll do it,” he called loudly.  “It’s my decision, and I’ve made it.”

            “Then why don’t you take your own advice?”  It was Matt.  The drummer took the chalk from Sam’s hand and steered him towards the door.  “I’ll help finish this up.  You go outside, get some fresh air yourself.  We’ll call you both back in when we’re ready for you.”

            And with that, Sam found himself outside with Adam.

            Adam was leaning back against the side of the house. His eyes were locked on the moon. Half of the glowing orb was visible in the sky.  The first quarter had come.  That meant they only had a week before they would try the spell to once again open the portal between worlds.  The stress of it must be tearing Adam apart.  In the moonlight, Adam looked about a decade older.  He was humming to himself when Sam came out.  But now he began to softly sing.  _“I can see you there.  Longing to be touched, but you're out of reach.  Oh, hold on please!  Won't you wait for me?  Tonight I stand in this lonely place.  I search the heavens for some saving grace, and I cry!  Dying without you.  I know you're somewhere looking up there too.  Right now that's all two distant hearts can do.  At least we're underneath, underneath the same moon!”_  Adam’s eyes closed and his head lowered.  _“Shadows of the night moving on the ground.  Like silent clouds, they follow me around.”_

            Sam cleared his throat, feeling awkward. “Hey,” he called.  “We’ll get him back.”

            Adam opened his eyes and blinked as if coming back from a daze.  His eyes seemed unfocused, looking at Sam as if he was seeing someone else.

            “I-I always liked that song,” Sam offered. “It’s one of Blake’s older ones, isn’t it?”

            Adam abruptly turned, faced the house, and slammed a hand against the door.  “He’s dying,” Adam told him.  “Right now, in that other universe, Blake is slipping away.  And there’s nothing, not one single thing, that I can do to help him!”

            “But you are doing something to help him,” Sam insisted.  “This is going to work, alright, Adam?  Besides, you don’t know for sure he’s dying!”

            “Yes, I do,” Adam insisted, turning back around to face Sam.  “I know, because I feel like half of me’s dying with him!  I’m losing him, Sam!”  The hazel eyes returned to the sky.  “Blake’s out there tonight, looking up at that same moon.  But he’s dying!  He’s not going to make it through tonight!  I don’t know how I can go on without him.  If this doesn’t work...?”  The singer swallowed.  “What’s going to happen to him, if he dies in that other universe?  I’ve been trying to tell myself that even if the worst happens, I’ll see him again someday.  But what if we end up in two different Heavens?  That would make Heaven more like Hell for me!”  He shook his head.  “I don’t want to go to Heaven if Blake’s not in it!”

            Sam frowned.  He wasn’t, by nature, a tactile person.  But Adam obviously was.  To hell with appropriate behavior with a client.  Sam slipped his arms around the smaller man and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ll go over there, and I’ll help him,” he promised.  “I’ll save Blake, Adam!  I swear it!”

            Adam sagged against his chest.  “Thank you.  I can’t thank you enough!”

            Sam patted him, praying for the strength to make good on his promise.  Then he jumped when James tapped on the window, gesturing for them to come in.  “Sounds like we’re being paged,” he called, letting Adam go.

            Adam’s face was solemn, his eyes huge as he looked up at Sam.  He nodded, swallowing, seemed to brace himself, and headed inside.  Sam followed.

            “Hey guys?” Adam called when they entered.  “I’ve decided that I want to be the one who casts this spell.  Winchester’s doing this for my husband, so if anything goes wrong, I want that to be on me, not anyone else!”

            “If anything goes wrong, it’s on me,” Sam corrected patiently.  “I’m the one who agreed to go through with it.  No one’s forcing me!”

            “I can do it, Adam!” Farrar protested.  “I studied the spell, and I know how to pronounce it.”

            “And I know you, Sammy,” Adam insisted.  “I know that if something goes wrong or anything happens to Winchester or his doppelganger, you’ll never forgive yourself! You know it, and I know it.  And that goes for everyone else in this band! When it all comes down to brass tacks, I’m the reason we’re all here doing this in the first place.  So if we’re really sending him over there, then I’ll be the one who does the deed.  Just tell me what to do.”

            Farrar sighed.  “Really wish we had our angel, man!”

            “Yeah, I’ll second that.  Come on, Adam, I’ll go over this spell with you.”  Sam put an arm around Adam’s shoulders and led him aside to show him the spell.

            Adam listened carefully.  He nodded, eyes flickering over the words of the spell. “Are we sure that anyone can cast a spell?  You don’t have to be, like, non-muggle to get magic to work?”

            “Honestly, you know as much as I do,” Sam sighed. “Worst case, we do this and nothing happens.”

            “What happens then?”

            “Then, we figure something else out.  But remember what that Hurt guy said, focus and intent!”  Sam pulled a well-read piece of paper out of his pocket.  “I’ll be casting a spell of my own, remember?  I’ve got it memorized.  I just need to find that hex bag, and this symbol those Goths sent me on something inside of it.  Once I find it, I cast the spell.  That should reduce the amount of power it can draw from Blake and maybe give him more time. After that, I find Blake and D-Dean…” He swallowed.  “…And I convince them that they need to try to find a way to restore Blake.  Still haven’t decided if I should suggest Crowley, or see if I can’t leave a message for Other Me.  If our angel didn’t like this Crowley guy, it stands to reason my brother won’t, either, especially if he’s got any sort of a relationship with Castiel.”

            Adam caught his eye, but Sam quickly looked away. He realized his slip.  He’d just referred to this other version of Dean as “my brother.”  But of course Adam understood.  Adam knew his history.  For the first time, the fact that he would actually have a chance to see Dean was finally hitting home.  Dean. His brother, the one he’d fatally failed, alive and well in another world!  What would he be like?  Sam had a million questions he wanted to ask, a thousand things he wanted to say.  But he couldn’t.  He had a job to do, and only a short amount of time to do it.  He needed to focus on his task.  This wasn’t a joy ride, no matter how much he might long to spend even one more precious moment with Dean.  _It won’t be Dean anyway,_ he told himself firmly.  _It will be his brother, that other me’s, not mine. Focus, Winchester, and get the job done, because you’ll only have one chance.  Mess it up, and Blake Shelton dies!_

            He took a long hard look at Adam, taking in the sunken eyes, the anxious, worried look, the way Adam’s hands shook just slightly. He could do it.  He knew he could.  “Showtime,” Sam muttered.

            He turned, about to step into the glyphs, when Adam suddenly glomped him.  Then Farrar was hugging him, too, and then PJ joined as well.  And a moment later, Sam had the rare experience of being group hugged by seven anxious rock stars at the same time.  He chuckled.  “I’ll be alright,” he soothed, awkwardly patting whomever he could reach.  “I’ll do what I have to do.  Meanwhile, you guys need to consider what you’re going to say to Other Me.  If he’s a hunter, then now’s the perfect chance to get some information!”

            “Good point!  Castiel said that Sam’s the one who did most of the research for their hunting,” Adam recalled.  “I bet he knows a lot!”  He turned to Farrar.  “When he gets here, we need to calm him down fast, and then pump him for as much information as we can get.  We’ve been looking for hunters all this time, and now we’re about to have one of the best there is right here with us!”

            Farrar was nodding.  “If anyone can help us find other hunters, this will be the guy!  And yeah,” he said, glancing at PJ.  “He might be able to reassure us a bit about our angel.  I’ll come out and say it, guys, I’m worried.  Castiel’s been gone too long!  If something happened to him, how the hell are the seven of us going to help?  And without him, if something goes wrong with this spell, what happens to Winchester?  Those witches flat-out said he could die in both realities!”

            Nearly identical expressions of fear and worry spread over the faces of the group.

            “I’ll be fine, and I’m sure our angel has an explanation,” Sam assured the group.  “If he’s meeting with this world’s version of himself, they probably have a lot to talk about.  Have faith! Our angel is not going to abandon us!” In the back of his mind, it amused him, how quickly he’d staked his claim on the angel just as Maroon 5 had done. But he could see that his words had reassured the group, even as the worry remained.  “Think about what you want to ask other me when he gets here. But meanwhile, it’s time to send me over.  Blake can’t wait much longer!”

            Apparently, the group agreed.  Sam got more hugs, got his hand shaken, and was bombarded with wishes for good luck.  Then they all stepped back.  Sam stepped into the circle, taking care not to step on any of the glyphs.  Then he turned to face Adam.  “Ready!”

            Adam licked his lips.  “Last chance to change your mind?”

            Sam gave him the reassuring smile he’d practiced on dozens of scared clients facing arrest and imprisonment.  “Cast it.”

            Adam nodded.  Sam had a moment, as he watched Adam arrange the components near a lit candle, to reflect that he was asking a man with ADHD to cast a spell requiring focus and intent.  But Adam appeared completely focused as he turned to the spell and began to chant.

            Sam swallowed hard and fought to control his fear. What he was doing, he knew, was akin to jumping out of a plane without a parachute.  If this worked, he’d be torn out of his body and thrown into another. What would the other version of him even be doing?  What if he was fighting a monster when Sam suddenly usurped him?  What if he was hurt, dying, or even already dead?  That was a sobering thought, and something else to add to his list of things to do.  He needed to warn his other self not to try to send Dean over.

            Dean.  He was about to see Dean.  That was Sam’s last thought as Adam blew the spell components through the flame of the candle.

            And then the world spun.  A mighty wind rushed past, buffeting him.  And suddenly he was staring down at an ancient yellowed text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun said he doesn’t recall Lawyer Sam being over there in the other part. Maybe something got screwed up?


	22. Legal Aid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lawyer Sam faces a terrible choice in his quest to save Blake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is actually tagged for three relationships. Not every bond is romantic. Sometimes, the most powerful of bonds between two people is platonic.
> 
> Song I used here, main theme for Lawyer Sam, is "What Hurts The Most" by Rascal Flatts  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcM9ElA1VHk

            Sam blinked, looking around.  He had a pencil in one hand and was apparently in the middle of writing something in a notebook.  He was seated at a large table under an old-fashioned light fixture. Looking around, Sam could see shelves of books.  About half a dozen books were piled on the table next to him on his left, half that again on his right.  They all looked to be as old or older than the one currently open in front of him.  The text did not appear to be in English, but the notes his other self seemed to have been taking were.  That could mean only one thing – research.  Ironic.  Even in this other reality, Sam was apparently still doing research.  He had no idea what his other self might have been researching, but that was clearly what was being done here.  Oh well.  He was good at it, after all.  But the strange books, and the strange location, were proof positive.  The spell had worked.  He was in the other world, in the body of his alternate self.

            Alright.  First things first.  He had to make sure that the Sam of this world never tried to use this spell on Dean. He had no idea what, if anything, might come of someone attempting to trade bodies with someone who was dead and ashes, but he didn’t want to find out.  He needed to leave a warning.  Sam flipped to the next piece of notebook paper and quickly wrote a message to his other self, warning him not to let Dean try the communication spell.  He added a few lines, explaining what he needed to do to help Blake.  Good. If he failed in his mission, Other Sam would know what to do now.  It would have to be enough.  He pulled the page out of the notebook and placed it prominently in the middle of his other self’s research.  There. Hopefully, it would be seen.

            Now to get down to business.

            Sam got up and nearly fell over.  Looking down at the body he was borrowing, it hadn’t looked any different from his own, but this body was far stronger than he was used to.  Apparently, he’d been letting himself go.  Time to get back to the gym.  Whatever. He looked around.  “Blake?” he called.  And then, more tentatively, “Dean?”

            No answer.  He quickly moved out into the main room.  Empty.  His heart sank.  What if Blake was worse off than they’d feared and Dean had taken him to a hospital? Or worse, what if Blake was already dead?  No, he couldn’t let himself think about that possibility.  But even if they’d taken Blake to a hospital, Sam had no way to know where, or how long they’d be gone.  He could write more to his other self, but that wasted precious time. What to do?

            Then he heard the murmur of voices.  It sounded like it was coming from the door. Sam quickly headed towards it and stuck out his head.

            His eyes fell on a figure he’d believed he’d never again see in this life.

            Dean was leaning against the wall, chatting with Blake Shelton.  Any other time, the famous country singer would have occupied Sam’s attention.  But right now, Sam barely noticed him.  His entire attention was focused on Dean. Dean was wearing an ancient t-shirt under a jacket, his hands shoved into the jacket pockets.  His jean-clad legs were crossed at the ankle, one work-booted foot tilted up to rest on the heel.  His hair was short, as it had always been.  But he was alive.  He was here. He was right here, looking up at the sky, and Sam stopped breathing for a moment.  Sam had known there was a version of Dean here, of course.  In this world, he was very much alive and well. But he hadn’t been prepared to see him like this, the very embodiment of his brother.  And when those familiar green eyes turned towards Sam, Sam had to cling to the door for support.  “You’re here!” he blurted before he could stop himself.

            Dean’s face broke into a welcoming smile. “Yeah, we’re just doing a little moon gazing.  Welcome to join us?”

            “Yes, I’d love to!  I mean…”  Wait. Stop.  Dean obviously thought he was his other self, and that was understandable.  But Sam had a job to do here.  He forced himself to tear his gaze away from Dean and look at Blake.

            Blake looked awful.  In the moonlight, the big man looked haggard and drawn, with dark circles under his eyes.  Even as he gave Sam a friendly smile, Sam could see the weariness in his eyes.  Sam felt a coldness sink into his chest.  _Adam was right!_ he realized.  _Blake won’t survive this night unless I save him! Keep it together, Winchester!  You have got to do what you came here to do, and you don’t have much time!_   Alright. Sam looked again at Dean.  “Dean, do you still have that hex bag that brought Blake here?”  It was a long shot.  Chances were high they’d simply tossed the bag out.  If Sam couldn’t find it, Blake would die.  But Dean might at least be able to give him a place to start looking.

            But Dean surprised him.  “Yeah, what’s left of it is right here in my coat pocket. Why?”

            Somehow, Sam was able to keep a poker face.  “May I see it?”

            It was in his pocket.  Dean, the monster hunter who was supposed to be the ultimate authority on all things supernatural, had been carrying the very object that was killing Blake in the pocket of his jacket!  Typical. Sam wanted to scream, choke Dean, or both.  Instead, he casually accepted a plastic sandwich bag filled with bits and herbs from Dean. Then he raced back inside.

            Back in the library, he opened the plastic bag and quickly found the coin with the symbol he needed.  Alright.  Focus. Do it right, but do it fast!  Here was a candle, and there was a pack of matches. Sam lit the candle, passed the coin through the flame three times, and chanted the spell he’d memorized, focusing hard.

            When he was finished, the flame of the candle flamed up brightly, and then went out.  Sam breathed a sigh of relief.  It was done. But would it be enough?

            Of course not.  The damage had already been done.  All he’d been able to do here was slow it down.  Blake needed more.  He’d need help, and Dean would have to find a way to help him.  And that meant the King of Hell.  Sam had no idea what he might say to his brother in order to convince him to seek out this Crowley character.  But he’d have to come up with something.  He was a lawyer, dammit!  Convincing people of things was what he did for a living!

            But when Dean hollered for him and Sam made his way back outside, Blake and Dean weren’t alone.  A bearded man in a dark suit was speaking to Dean.  And when the man’s eyes found Sam, somehow Sam knew with absolute certainty that the stranger knew exactly who he really was.  “Hello, what’s this then?” the stranger called.  “Doing a bit of experimenting, are we?”

            Crowley.  It had to be. And he knew who Sam was.  Of course he did!  He was a supernatural being.  The band had told him that Castiel had known immediately when Adam was no longer Adam.  So of course, Crowley would recognize that Sam wasn’t the Sam of this world!  Not good.  Sam knew he had to be careful.  This was the powerful being known as the King of Hell.  If he wanted to, he could surely harm Sam, or worse, harm Blake or Dean.  But how did one negotiate with a creature like this?

            Answer – he couldn’t.  Fine.  Stick to what you know.  Sam’s eyes went to Dean.  “What’s going on?”

            Dean was scowling horribly.  “What’s going on is that Crowley is here to fuck us again,” he announced.

            Sam looked over at Blake, and saw that the country star appeared to be asleep.  He’d fallen asleep not five feet away from the Demon King of Hell?!  But then Sam noted with alarm how shallow and irregular Blake’s breathing was.  His color was awful.  And the way he’d slumped, the way his limbs were sprawled, the look on Dean’s face... Blake wasn’t asleep.  He’d passed out!  Definitely not good.  Blake was unconscious and helpless just a few feet from the most powerful of demons. And there was Dean, intentionally putting himself between the unconscious man and the King of Hell. Even here, Dean was only concerned with protecting others.

            Alright, then.  There was a time for diplomacy, and a time to be direct.  He had no idea how much time he had left before the spell wore off.  It was time for the direct approach.  Sam moved up to join Dean in front of Blake.  Then he focused on Crowley.  “Are you going to help Blake?” he asked.

            Crowley shrugged.  “I imagine that’s up to Dean here.  I can help him, so long as he’s willing to pay my price?”

            Oh no.  They did not have the time to argue this out.  Sam put on his lawyer face.  “Do it!” he ordered.  “Whatever you need to do to help him, just do it, Crowley!”

            That startled Dean.  He turned, staring in shock at Sam.  “Dude, what the hell?  You don’t even know what he wants!”

            Dean didn’t understand.  Of course not.  He still thought Sam was his brother, and might not even know just how desperate Blake’s situation really was.  But Crowley was staring right through Sam.  Apparently, Sam wouldn’t be given a choice in this.  Dean was barely a part of it.  Any negotiation that would take place here would be between Sam and the King of Hell.

            So be it. 

            Sam shoved the contents of the hex bag into his pocket so both hands were free, just in case.  Then he locked eyes with Crowley.  “Fine!  What do you want, Crowley?”

            “Just brought you a little replacement for what you’ve lost.”  The creature had something in his hand, what was it?  A small cloth bag, tied at the top…  Oh. It was another hex bag.  It would no doubt be the focus of some sort of spell. Sam was about to reach for it when he saw Crowley’s eyes shift to Dean.  “I want Dean here to carry it,” he announced, “so I can keep tabs on him. In exchange, I can give Blake a bit of a boost.  It won’t reverse what’s happening to him, or slow it down, but he’ll certainly feel much better!  It should buy him the necessary time.”  The dark eyes moved back to Sam.  “Especially since you appear to have figured something out, didn’t you, Sam?”

            There it was.  Proof that Crowley knew who he really was.  This, Sam realized, was the real contest, with Blake’s life as the prize. And there was only one thing Crowley wanted – Dean.  This monster wasn’t interested in souls or anything Sam might have to offer.  He wanted Dean!  Why?  Well, if this Dean was anything like Sam’s brother, he’d probably succeeded in pissing Crowley off any number of times.  If Dean took that hex bag, someway, somehow, he would end up paying a terrible price.  And he, Sam, wouldn’t even be around to see the results of it!  What would happen to Dean?  Could he really risk it, trade Dean to save Blake?

            Sam’s stomach sank.  Alright, think.  Can’t be emotional about this.  Approach it like any other legal issue.  Sam’s mind moved rapidly through what he knew.  This was a creature that operated on the basis of contractual deals and was capable of recognizing when a foreign soul was inside of a human body.  That was why he wanted Dean.  Any deal he made with Sam, he couldn’t enforce once the real Esau returned.  But if he forced Dean to carry this hex bag, that would lock Dean into whatever deal that was made.  Smart. Too smart.

            Sam straightened, narrowing his eyes at the monster in the dark suit.  Crowley glared right back at him.  Of course. The demon knew that he held all the cards right now.  If he didn’t get what he wanted, he’d refuse to help.  But Crowley was the only one who could save Blake!  Could Sam really make this deal, trap Dean like this when Dean didn’t even understand what was happening?

            Even as he thought this, Dean was demanding to know what was happening.  He was clearly upset as he looked up at Sam, waiting for an answer.  Behind him, from the corner of Sam’s eye, he could see Blake was still slumped against the wall.  Unless he got help tonight, he’d never wake again.  And unseen by anyone else, Crowley’s eyes went blood red.  _“I know who you are, Sam Winchester!”_

            It spoke volumes about how far Sam had come, that he could hear the voice of a genuine monster from Hell speaking in his mind and not even change expression.  _“I know who you are, too, demon king! And I know about the spell, that coin from the hex bag that’s draining Blake’s soul.  I just throttled the spell, slowed the progression.”_

The red eyes narrowed.  _“You can’t reverse it.”_

_“I know.  But you can help!”_

            The creature’s lips curled up into a smile.  _“You know my price.”_

_“What will happen to Dean?  I can’t trade one life for another!”_

_“My dear lad, if I wanted him dead, I’d just kill him now!  If Dean does as I ask, it will provide me with certain leverage when the time comes.  That’s all you need to know.  Perhaps before then, we can come to another arrangement.  But if he doesn’t do as I ask, Blake dies tonight!  You have my offer.  Make your choice!”_

            Saving Blake would cost him Dean.  Maybe Dean wouldn’t die, but Sam had no doubt he’d suffer. But even as Sam’s mind raced, trying desperately to find a way out of this, he knew there was no other choice. He’d promised Adam.  Sam focused on Crowley.  _“Help Blake,”_ he sent, _“and Dean will do as you ask.”_

Crowley raised an eyebrow.  _“How can you be so sure?”_

_“Because he’s my brother!”_

            The entire exchange had taken place in seconds, far faster than it could have had any of it been spoken aloud.  But Sam was all too aware that the consequences were very real.

             Crowley blinked, and his eyes were back to normal.  And then they moved to Dean.  “Just carry the hex bag, Dean!”

            Dean would refuse.  Of course he would refuse.  Who wouldn’t?  But Sam was ready, consenting for Dean even as Dean snapped back at Crowley.  Then those familiar green eyes were staring up at him in shock and disbelief.  Guilt washed over Sam.  But one glance at Blake was all Sam needed to confirm what he already knew.

            _I’m sorry, Dean.  But I have no choice.  My other self will know what I’ve done, and try to find a way to help you.  But Blake is out of time!_

            Sam took hold of Dean’s arms, shook him, and flat-out ordered him to take the bag.  It made Sam’s stomach turn to do it, but he knew what the result would be.  In many ways, Sam’s brother was more of a parent to him than either of his parents had ever been.  Dean had almost always made the decisions and set the standards.  But on the rare occasions when Sam really insisted on anything, Dean had never, ever refused him.

            It was no different now.

            Crowley actually appeared surprised when Dean obediently took the hex bag.  And then Dean had to actually _kiss_ the creature to seal the deal!  But Dean had done it without hesitation.  He’d sealed whatever fate awaited him, just because he believed his brother had asked him to.

            Sam felt sick.  He helped Dean carry Blake away from the bunker, and then snapped at Crowley when the bastard had the audacity to ask him to fetch a chair. And that had earned him a warning. “Watch yourself, boy!  You’re not immune to me, Sam Winchester.”

            That was sobering.  Once again, Sam was reminded of exactly how powerful the creatures he’d been dealing with lately actually were.  Would Crowley really be able to hurt him from another version of reality?  Sam had no way to know.  But right now, he didn’t care.  _What’s going to happen to Dean?  What have I done?!_

            His stomach was churning.  As soon as he could, Sam seized on the excuse to grab Dean and go back inside, well away from Crowley.  He knew Dean didn’t want to leave Blake, but he also knew Blake would be safe.  After all, they had a deal.  Now Sam just wanted to get Dean safely away.

            All Sam could hear was the pounding of his heart. He’d done it.  He’d saved Blake, but at what cost?  The hex bag Dean wore now seemed to damn him, but it was worse. Because it damned _Dean_.  And Dean had willingly accepted it for him.  No, not for him.  For his _brother,_ the brother that wasn’t even here, the one who had no idea he’d just…!

            Dean had his arm and had jerked him around, startling Sam from his thoughts.  The green eyes that had closed forever in Sam’s reality were full of hurt, confusion, and the familiar worry that had practically been a staple when they were kids. For a moment, Sam was so lost in his memories that he barely registered what Dean was saying.  Oh.  Dean wanted to know what the bag did.  “It doesn’t matter,” Sam explained.  “That bag could turn us both into eunuchs, and it wouldn’t matter, Dean!  Because if we let Blake die, do you really think we could live with ourselves?”

            And once more, Sam saw him, the self-sacrificing big brother who would have done anything for his Sammy.  Guilt washed over Sam.  All Dean had ever really asked from Sam was to be loved.  And Sam had let him down.  He’d shoved money at his brother, pushed Dean into rehabs and menial jobs away from Sam and his busy life.  All so Sam could keep climbing that ladder, keep focusing on his own life. All so Sam wouldn’t have to deal with Dean, to see just how far the brother he’d once worshipped, who had taken more than one drunken paternal blow or irritated maternal slap for Sam, had fallen. Then Dean had fallen for the final time, fallen into the night off a bridge.  And suddenly Sam would never have to deal with his brother again.

            Sam kept it together right up until he saw the sad, lost look in Dean’s eyes when he talked about not seeing his angel again. It was too much.  He was embracing Dean before he knew it, burying the first traitorous tears in Dean’s hair, breathing in the musky scent of his lost brother.  He felt Dean stiffen in his arms and firmly checked himself.  He couldn’t let Dean falter now.  He fought back his tears, forced his voice to be steady, to offer reassurances. And in his arms, Dean finally relaxed, even returning the hug.

            By the time Sam forced himself to let Dean go and Dean was demanding to know what was wrong, Sam was in control again, able to again offer what scant, vague reassurance he could.

            Yet even then, he couldn’t resist touching Dean one last time, just a touch on Dean’s face.  The same way he’d touched his brother for the last time.  Dean was so warm, so full of life, not cold and still as he’d been at his funeral.  Of course, Dean was spooked by the gesture.  Apparently, the two of them weren’t any more tactile in this universe than they’d been in their own.  Sam deserved an academy award for his acting then, and a gold medal for his restraint. He didn’t crush Dean to his chest. He didn’t beg for forgiveness. And most of all, he didn’t say those three simple, stupid words that had shown in Dean’s eyes every time he’d looked at Sam for as long as Dean had lived, but had so rarely passed either of their lips.  All he did was talk about the spell he’d cast and give a credible excuse for what would happen next.  “I’m gonna be out of commission for a bit, while I recover,” he said.  “But Blake should improve.  If he doesn’t?  I want you to fucking kill Crowley!”

            “No problem,” Dean told him without hesitation. “And I’ll kick the shit out of you if you did anything stupid!”

            Dean never changed.  No matter what universe he was in, Dean was still Dean.  Sam managed a shrug.  “You know me.”

            “Yes.  That’s why I’m already preparing to kick your ass!”

            “Fair enough.”  Would he do it?  Did the old familiar line mean the same to Dean here as it had to Sam and his brother? One way to find out.  “Jerk!” he called.

            Dean never hesitated.  “Bitch!”  And there, shining in his eyes, was the steadfast love his brother had always had for Sam.

            Jerk and bitch.  The Winchester brothers’ slang for “I love you.”

            Sammy chuckled, making himself smile at Dean even as, inside, he was screaming to his other self.  _Don’t tell him!_ he thought frantically.  _He’s yours for the rest of your lives, but let me have these few moments!  Don’t tell him, Sam, don’t tell him, don’t tell him, don’t tell him, don’t…_

            Once again, the wind drew him away.  And he was seated at Sam Farrar’s computer, his fingers flying over the keys.

            “Uh, Sam?  Hey, you still the hunter guy, or are you our lawyer again?”

            “Lawyer,” Sam whispered.  His eyes were on the screen, seeing the words “don’t tell him” typed over and over.  He quickly deleted them.

            The group breathed a collective sigh of relief. “You were gone a lot longer than Adam was,” Mickey informed him.  “I gotta tell you, I was scared!”

            Sam nodded.  “I was gone long enough to do what I had to do.  That’s what matters.”

            “Really?!”  Adam had his arm.  “Did you see Blake?  I really thought he was dying for a bit there, but now it seems, I don’t know, better! Is it just wishful thinking?”  He gave Sam a shake.  “Tell me!  What happened?  Is Blake alright?”

            Sam nodded again, feeling numb.  “I saw him, cast the spell.  And Crowley was there.  We made the deal to help Blake.”  He looked at Adam and managed a smile.  “We were just in time, I think.”

            Adam’s face broke into a sunny smile.  “You did it!  You really did it!”  The sheer gratitude in Adam’s eyes could have melted a heart of stone.  “Can I hug you?”

            Sam nodded once more, and got glomped.  Once again, he was at the center of a massive group hug of rock stars.  Everyone wanted to know what happened, so Sam told them the story of his travels in the other world.  He left out how it was for him, to see that match for his lost brother.  But somehow, Sam thought they understood.  Their eyes were soft as they looked at him.  Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Sam chuckled, looking at Farrar.  “Was my other self any help?”

            “Boy, was he!” Farrar exclaimed.  “Look, man!  Hunter Sam knew the code the hunters use for their website!  He said it’s the same one the British Men of Letters use. And apparently, you’re a legacy, Winchester!  Your family’s on their roster, and that opened all kinds of doors!  They already messaged us, wanting to meet, and…  Whoa, dude, you alright?”

            Sam suddenly felt as if every drop of energy had been drained from his body at once.  He tumbled from his chair and barely comprehended it when hands caught him, when he was lifted and gently carried until he was lying on a warm, flat surface. With his eyes closed, he was seeing Dean again.  His brother.

            _Don’t tell him, Sam!_

            Had his other self heard?  Would Dean’s brother let Sam keep his moment?

            It was the final thought that followed him down into unconsciousness.

****

            “He’s out?”

            “Yeah, he’s out cold.”  Adam glanced back up the stairs, as if he could see the lawyer. “He really came through!  No way I could have done all that!  Now, thanks to him, Blake’s got a real chance!”  He shook his head.  “Guys, I should have thought about it before, but I was preoccupied with Blake.  I just sent that poor guy to another reality, to face the double for his dead brother! His Dean is _dead_ in this world, and Sam never got over it.  Now that fucking demon just made him trade Hunter Dean for Blake!  I cannot imagine what that was like for him!  Now what’s going to happen to Dean?”

            “Adam?” Jesse called softly.  “Winchester did what he had to do, and there’s nothing we can do for Hunter Dean.  He and Hunter Sam are going to have to work that one out themselves.”

            “How are we going to tell Castiel?” PJ wanted to know.

            “We’re not,” Mickey declared.  “No, hear me out!  We all know our angel’s in some kind of trouble, right?  So tell me.  What good will it do him to know that this demon King of Hell’s got his hooks into his lover?  Don’t you think he’s got enough to deal with right now?”

            “I guess it doesn’t matter,” James grumbled. “He’s not here for us to tell him anything anyway.”

            “I don’t like it,” Adam declared.  “How’s this any different than him not telling me about Blake?  And it’s for the same reason!”  He sighed. “But you’re right.  We need to focus on what we can actually do something about.  Sammy, what do we have here?”

            “This system the hunters use?”  Sam Farrar indicated the screen.  “It seems pretty well connected.  Winchester’s family being on their rosters was one hell of a stroke of luck! Hunter Sam put in a request and dropped a few names, hunters he knew from his universe.  And now we can finally access the hunter database!  I’ve been looking at the ones that are based in and around Oklahoma, but they’re all pretty spread out.  Maybe, if we reach out to one of them, they can…  Hello, what’s this?  We’re being contacted!”

            Adam blinked at the new chat box that had appeared on the screen.  “Whoa, is that a hunter?”

            “I think he is!  And he wants to meet with us!”  Farrar’s fingers flew over the keyboard.  “He’s in Ohio.  Says he’ll catch a plane, be down here in a couple of days.  That’s awesome!”

            “What’s his name?”

            “Arthur Ketch,” Farrar reported.

            “Great!  Get his information,” Adam ordered.  “We’ll get in touch with him.  Maybe he can help?  If nothing else, he can help us make sure those two goths don’t fuck up our angel!”

            “Can’t have too many allies,” Matt declared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun gave the author several dirty looks and would not high five her for how well she pulled that one past him. Says Crowley can suck a dick. Finally said the author was awesome, that was very nice, and he never saw it coming. He figured Sam was doing something stupid back in the other part and he was right, but didn’t realize it wasn’t the same Sam! Gave the author another dirty look at the name of the hunter that just contacted them.
> 
> I also let Nutcracker read the drafts of this piece and the other one well before I started posting. She said Lawyer Sam has a little piece of her soul.
> 
> ***GOLD STAR*** for Anit and Tem! You each correctly guessed part of what happened. You just missed that it was Lawyer Sam the whole time!


	23. Under Arrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Adam is arrested for Blake's murder, he and Sam Winchester learn of some disturbing new evidence against Adam. Meanwhile, Castiel's continued absence with no contact has everyone concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Ironic Pheasant for your assistance with the legal stuff!

            Adam’s heart was pounding.  One minute he’d been having breakfast, the next the police were at his door, demanding he get dressed and come out.  Then had come the damning words that still echoed through his head.  “Adam Noah Shelton-Levine, you’re under arrest for the murder of Blake Tollison Shelton-Levine.  You have the right…”

            Adam hadn’t heard anything more after that. He’d been dimly aware of being cuffed and hands pushing him roughly out the door towards the waiting car, of his band yelling and Winchester insisting he not say a word, the lawyer promising he’d meet him at the station.  And now he was sitting in the back of the police cruiser.  This was a nightmare.  It couldn’t be real.  And yet, he could feel the hard, cold metal of the cuffs on his wrists.  He could feel every bump and jolt of the car.  He could smell the faint odor of stale urine and alcoholic vomit that still remained after the car had been cleaned after one too many drunks.  He could hear the crackle of conversation over the radio.  The two officers who had arrested him didn’t say a word.  They simply faced forward and drove.  But there was no doubt.  This was happening.  After all they’d done, all the risks they’d taken to save Blake, he was really being arrested for murdering his husband!  “I didn’t do it!” he exclaimed abruptly.

            No response from the two officers.  Of course not.  Adam imagined they’d heard prisoners in the back of their car protesting their innocence countless times.  Adam fought his rising panic, forced himself not to struggle and try to get out of the cuffs and the car.  That wouldn’t help him.  He needed to stay calm, not say anything to make this worse, and wait for his lawyer. He'd never been so grateful that Winchester had recovered so quickly from the soul transfer.  Odd, but it was certainly saving him now.  Winchester had been groggy when he'd come out this morning, but he was coherent.  And he'd been instantly wide awake when he'd realized Adam was about to be arrested.  Now, he was right behind them. He knew what had really happened, plus he was a criminal defense lawyer.  Surely, he’d be able to get Adam out of this!  The sight of the familiar black Impala following them was the only thing that had kept Adam from losing it completely.

            But they wouldn’t let Winchester follow them up to the entrance.  Adam saw the police directing his lawyer around to the parking area, while Adam was brought to the front entrance.  Where was Winchester now?  Adam didn’t know.  Don’t panic. He’d be back.  He just had to park, and then he’d be in with Adam and everything would be alright.  Surely this was just a big misunderstanding!  If they played their cards right, Adam would be in and out and no one would be the wiser.

            But then he looked ahead and saw the mob waiting outside the police station.  His heart sank.  Before the car was even stopped, they were pressing cameras and microphones towards his windows, shouting questions.  How had they all known he was about to be arrested?!  He’d certainly had no idea!

            The police outside were forcing the crowd back, preparing to perp walk Adam in.  And Castiel, where was his angel?  Castiel had been gone now for four days!  What could have happened?  Adam needed his angel now more than ever!  But there was no sign of him.

            The car door was opening, police officers pulling him out.  Then they made no attempt to shield Adam as they marched him inside.  Adam was on display, handcuffed and humiliated, surrounded by flashing lights and shouted questions.  The hands were rough on his arms, forcing him forward towards the station. His cheeks were flaming, the backs of his eyes stinging with unshed tears of shame.  And he’d never felt more alone in all his life.

            After that, everything was a blur.  Mug shots.  Fingerprints.  Sitting in a room with his hands cuffed to a ring on the table, like he was a dangerous criminal.  He’d somehow managed to tell the detectives who tried to talk to him that he wanted his lawyer.  When Sam Winchester finally appeared, Adam thought he’d faint from sheer relief.

            Then he saw the look on his lawyer’s face, and his stomach sank.

            Winchester came over, leaned close, and spoke to Adam in a low voice.  “They’re going to question you about what happened to Blake.  Apparently, they’ve had their eyes on you for a while, but didn’t have grounds for an arrest until they recently got some new evidence.  I have no idea what it is, but I don’t like how confident they are.”

            “What do I do?” Adam whispered frantically.

            “Just stay cool, no matter what!” Winchester advised. “You don’t have to answer any questions. Let me do most of the talking, and we’ll get through this.  Remember, Adam, that there’s no way they can prove a murder that never happened!  My guess is that their entire case is circumstantial.  I can poke that so full of holes it will never hold water!  And that’s what you need to keep in mind.  No matter what sort of shit they’re planning to throw at you, it isn’t true!  We both know Blake’s safe, and in a few days, we can prove it!”

            “Not unless our angel comes back!” Adam hissed. “Four days he’s been gone, and now they suddenly find new evidence and arrest me?!  What the hell could they have found, Sam?!  And why haven’t we heard anything at all from Castiel?  Something’s wrong!”

            “I know!  But you’ve got allies, Adam.  Even with you here, the band is still working.  I knew they wouldn’t be able to come in, so I made them stay back at the house and make themselves useful.  I told them they needed to focus on reaching that hunter, Ketch, and see if he can’t help us understand what happened to our angel.  And they’re reaching out, calling anyone they can, to see if they can get you out of this.  What they did to you was bullshit, and I have every intention of calling them out on it!” He fiercely gripped Adam’s arm, caught his eye.  “But right now, you and I need to focus on you!  Nothing else matters but getting you the fuck out of here!  Ok?”

            Adam nodded.  “Alright.  Just tell me what to do.  I trust you.”

            Winchester seemed to hesitate.  “About that.  Adam, the band sent me a few texts.  You’ve had a few very well-known lawyers contacting the house, offering to represent you.  I’m a criminal defense lawyer, but I’m pretty much the definition of small town, ok? I’ve never handled a client or a case this big!  So I won’t be offended, ok?  Because you really need to think about hiring one of them.  I’m still going to stick around and help, b-but you’re facing murder charges here!  Maybe...”

            “No fucking way!” Adam snarled.  “You are the only one who knows what’s really going on. I want you!  I _need_ you!  Don’t you fucking leave me now, Sam Winchester!”

            The green eyes softened.  “I won’t.  And I’ll do everything I can.  I just wanted you to be sure!”

            “I’m sure.”  Adam instinctively tried to take hold of Winchester, to cling to the lawyer for support.  But he was hindered by the cuffs.  He stared at them numbly.  Fortunately Winchester saw, understood, and quickly scooted closer so that his shoulder could brush against Adam’s.  That helped, but Adam was trembling.  When the door suddenly clicked, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

            “There’s no need to keep my client restrained,” Winchester announced as the detectives came in.  “He’s got no history of violence!  I’d like him to be released immediately!”

            “He’s fine how he is.  He may not have a history of violence, but there’s plenty to go around in this case to justify restraint.”  There were two detectives, an older grey-haired man and a woman in her thirties with shoulder-length brown hair.  They introduced themselves as Hendricks and Warner.  “I understand your legal name is Shelton-Levine,” Warner continued, “but you and your husband still perform under your original names and typically introduce yourselves as such.  For the sake of clarity, do you mind if we refer to you as Levine and your husband as Shelton?”

            “That’s fine,” Adam mumbled.  “We know who we are, but our careers kind of require the familiarity of the names.”

            “Alright then.  Here’s how we stand, Levine,” Warner began.  She indicated the file that Hendricks was flipping through.  “We’ve got a 911 tape of a lot of yelling, sounds of a struggle, and a gun being fired before the call cuts off.  When officers come to the home, they meet this complete stranger with only one name who doesn’t seem to know anything at all about the inhabitants of the house.  Then you show up with blood all over your face and hands, later confirmed by the lab as belonging to Shelton.  The same blood is also marking your new best friend!  So now we have Shelton’s blood on you and Castiel the night Shelton disappeared, and more blood on the floor in the living room.  Living room’s got obvious signs of struggle.  We’ve got a fired bullet pried out of a wall.  We’ve got a ballistics report that the bullet is the same caliber as a pistol Shelton is known to keep in the house, which is also missing.  And when you’re asked to explain all of this, you give us a bullshit story about a group of men we found no trace of taking Shelton, while you and Castiel don’t have so much as a scratch on you!”

            “And this Castiel guy?” she continued.  “No one can figure him out!  His fingerprints, and pretty much everything else about him, are an exact match to a James Novak.  Novak lives out in Pontiac, Illinois with his wife and kid and sells ads on AM radio.  He’s got an airtight alibi, and as far as he knows, he doesn’t have an identical twin! So no one knows what’s going on there. What, did Castiel surgically alter his face and prints, so he can fly under the radar and land this poor family guy in the hot seat if he ever got caught?!”

            “If that’s even a serious question, it’s one you need to save for Castiel,” Winchester called.  “Why would you even ask a question like that!  You can’t seriously expect my client to answer it! Or have we just inadvertently stepped onto the set of a bad murder mystery?”  He shook his head.  “Surgically altering his face and prints, seriously?!  If this is the kind of evidence you have against my client, this whole arrest is a bigger charade than I thought!  Is this a joke, detectives?!”

            Warner shrugged, unconcerned, and returned her attention to Adam.  “Castiel drew our attention right from the start.  At first we watched him, thinking you were somehow being coerced, especially when he turns out to have some sort of paramilitary training.  But then Shelton’s gone for two weeks, and we get pictures of you in a hotel room, canoodling with Castiel!”

            “Looked like a pretty hot kiss, too,” Hendricks added, sliding the damning picture onto the table in front of Adam.  “What happened, Levine?  Shelton walked in on the two of you, your lover and your husband got into it, someone grabbed a gun and it went off by mistake?”

            “What?  No!” Adam exclaimed.

            Winchester’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder and firmly squeezing.  He looked over and saw the lawyer cock an eyebrow at him.  “Normally, I’d say don’t answer that question, but in this case, let’s clear the air.  Adam, would you please confirm or deny the existence of a sexual or romantic relationship between you and your bodyguard?”

            Right.  He needed to keep calm.  Adam breathed through his nose, forcing himself to calm.  “There is no sexual or romantic relationship between me and Castiel,” he declared.  “What we have between us is a platonic relationship of business and friendship, nothing more.  That picture was taken without my knowledge or consent, and it was taken completely out of context!”

            “Out of context?”  Warner raised her eyebrow.  “There’s a context where one man shoving his tongue down the throat of another man isn’t evidence of a sexual or romantic relationship?  This is you Frenching another man, Levine, and the whole world knows you’re gay!”

            “Is my client under arrest for his sexuality?” Winchester snapped.  “He has already told you that the picture was taken out of context.  But regardless of the context, the last time I checked, there was no law against two adults sharing a kiss!”

            “There is when it’s motive for murder!” Hendricks pounced.  He indicated the photo.  “You seriously going to claim there’s no relationship between you and your bodyguard with that staring you in the face?!”

            Adam ground his teeth.  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you!  Frankly, what happened there isn’t any of your business.  But there was not, is not, nor will there ever be any sort of romantic or sexual relationship between Castiel and myself!”

            “Who is this guy?” Warner wanted to know, tapping her finger on Castiel’s picture.  “What’s his real name?  And where is he now?”

            “My client is not at liberty to discuss his bodyguard’s background or current whereabouts,” Winchester announced.

            “Well, he’d best reconsider that!” Warner retorted. “Because if I had to guess, and apparently I do because we’re sitting here playing lawyer?  I’d say that Levine was an accomplice to Shelton’s murder, but this Castiel guy actually did the deed.  He’s the one with the training to do it, after all!  Shelton’s a big man.  He would have fought, unless someone held a gun on him.  And from what we’ve learned about you, Levine?  You and guns don’t get along all that well.”

            “Castiel did it, didn’t he?” Hendricks pressed. “There wasn’t enough blood in that living room to indicate that Shelton died there.  So what did Castiel do, Levine?  After the gun went off, grazed Shelton, did your new lover take your husband out back and put a bullet in his brain?  Maybe back behind your fancy privacy fence where no one could see him do the deed?  He did, didn’t he?  But you definitely played a part!  You let lover boy stall the cops while you hid Shelton’s body!  Then the two of you…”

            “Alright, this has gone far enough,” Winchester declared. “You’re making baseless accusations, harassing my client!”

            “Winchester, who the hell are you, anyway?” Warner wanted to know.  “Levine’s got more than enough money to hire a whole team of lawyers, so what’s he doing with a no-name criminal defense lawyer from the backwaters of Kansas?  We got the names of every lawyer Levine and Shelton have ever used.  Neither you nor your firm nor anyone even remotely connected to them has ever so much as shadowed that list!  And I looked you up, too.  You represent petty criminals, drunks, druggies, and the occasional B and E or fist fight when the farmers’ kids get into trouble.  And nearly all of that is pro bono because they’re all too poor to afford a real lawyer!  You are a nobody hick from the sticks!  This case is so far out of your league it’s a joke!  No way in hell an A-list celebrity like Adam Levine taps the likes of you as his lawyer for a case like this!  So what’s really your role here?”  Her eyes quickly appraised him.  “Other than being yet another piece of the eye candy Levine’s suddenly surrounding himself with, that is?”

            Adam clenched his fists in fury.  But Winchester straightened, giving her a cool gaze.  “I do not care at all for what you’re insinuating. Are you accusing _me_ of something now, or is this just yet another blatant attack on my client’s sexuality?!”

            Warner’s eyes widened.  “I don’t give a shit about his sexuality!  Don’t even try to pull the prejudice card!”

            “And yet you continue to bring it up?  It seems to me that you care a great deal!” Winchester countered.  “And, especially since certain hate groups displaying exactly the same sort of prejudice have already been implicated in crimes relating to my client and his spouse? I’ll be certain to bring up the statements you’ve made about both Castiel and myself when I speak with the media you so thoughtfully gathered outside!”

            Hendricks cleared his throat, shooting his partner a look.  She squirmed, and Adam wanted to cheer.  Winchester, he’d noticed, had a slight stammer, especially when he was anxious. The fact that there was no trace of that stammer, that the lawyer’s voice was clear and steady as he defended Adam, was as reassuring as everything Winchester was saying.

            “Let’s return to the subject at hand,” Winchester said smoothly.  “You’re accusing my client of murdering his husband when you said yourself there wasn’t enough blood present to indicate a murder.  Where, exactly, is your proof that Shelton’s even dead?!  According to the statement my client gave police, Shelton was abducted by a group that broke into his home.  During the time that my client’s husband has been missing, Mr. Levine has continued to receive numerous threats from various hate groups.  So why is my client sitting here handcuffed to this table instead of the known hate groups who we can prove have been sending threatening messages to Mr. Levine, his associates, and even the charities he supports?  Mr. Levine has no history of violence, has never run afoul of the law outside of the occasional traffic violation, and you yourself admitted he doesn’t know his way around a gun.  Your entire case against him is circumstantial!  Meanwhile, it seems to me that you have plenty of evidence to make a case against some of the hate groups threatening him!  If you’ll recall, earlier this month a member of one of those groups actually fired several shots at him during a benefit concert!”

            “And it was Castiel who took care of that, wasn’t it?” Hendricks recalled.  “Isn’t that convenient?  We’ve got these whole groups of people who hate Levine and send him threats, but there’s only a single gunman that actually takes a shot!  A single gunman that the heroic bodyguard takes out by himself, after blocking three shots?  That sounds just a bit too contrived for my taste!”

            “Are you seriously accusing _Castiel_ of setting someone after me with a rifle, just so he can look like a hero?!” Adam sputtered.  “The guy shot him three times before Castiel took the fucker out, three shots that were meant for me!  What kind of…?”

            “You don’t have a shred of evidence!” Winchester challenged, squeezing Adam’s shoulder again to silence him.  “This entire arrest is based off of wild guesses, blatant homophobia, the plot of a bad mystery novel, and, I’ll come out and say it, your intense desire to cover up your own incompetence!  You failed to provide adequate protection to an entertainer you knew was under threat, so you’re trying to cast suspicion on the bodyguard who did your job for you?  You failed to find the group who’d abducted Shelton, so you’re trying to accuse his husband and his bodyguard of murdering him?  It’s patently ridiculous!  And it’s also transparent.  This entire production, up to and including leaking the news of my client’s arrest to the press so you could perp walk him through the cameras?  It’s all just a pathetic attempt to redeem yourselves and humiliate my client!  You made sure you had every reporter and his brother-in-law gathered out front, all so you could be sure that pictures of Adam Levine in handcuffs made it on every front page and news broadcast!  Frankly, I intend to encourage him to file a complaint against you!  So unless you have any proof at all beyond circumstantial evidence and wild guesses?  I demand that you cease and desist this unjust persecution and immediately release my client!”

            “We got a warrant, Winchester, because we were able to produce adequate evidence for an arrest!” Warner snapped.  “Or don’t they teach pretty boys like you basic shit like that at whatever fancy lawyer school you went to anymore?”

            “Stanford, and they teach it,” Winchester snapped back. “You know what else they teach? Full disclosure!”  He narrowed his eyes at the detectives.  “I have yet to hear any evidence that Mr. Shelton is even deceased, much less that my client was in any way responsible!  Unless that’s forthcoming?  We are about to walk out of here!”

            Adam was starting to relax a bit at his lawyer’s words.  But then he saw the smug look the two detectives shot each other and stiffened. Hendricks reached into the file he was carrying and produced yet another picture.  He placed it next to the picture of Castiel kissing Adam and sat back, letting Adam and Winchester have a good look.  Adam frowned.  “What is this?  Charcoal?”

            “That’s a burn site,” Warner announced.  “Take a close look, Levine.  Because that’s not charred firewood in that pit.  What you’re looking at there is all that’s left of one Blake Tollison Shelton-Levine.”

            Winchester sucked in his breath.  Adam straightened.  “What?  _What?!_   That isn’t possible!”

            “Where did this come from?” Winchester demanded, once more squeezing Adam’s arm.  “And what makes you think it’s Blake?”

            “We received an anonymous tip,” Hendricks added. “Someone saw your client and his bodyguard carry a wrapped bundle out to an empty field and set it on fire.  They called it in.  We went out there and found that!”  He shook his head.  “Gotta hand it to you, Levine, the two of you did a hell of a job.  The only things we could find were some charred bits of bone, some vertebrae, some ribs, part of a pelvis and bits of skull.  You damned near succeeded in getting rid of Shelton’s body completely!”

            “Amazing, isn’t it?” Warner asked.  “It’s like Shelton had a guardian angel, bringing some random person along to the right place at the right time to make sure he got justice!  If we hadn’t found this, chances are high that you and your new boy toy might have gotten away with it!”

            “But that’s impossible!” Adam exclaimed. “This isn’t Blake.  This can’t be Blake!  Blake isn’t dead, this is crazy!”

            Now Winchester’s hand on his arm was actually painful.  “I need some time with my client,” the lawyer announced.

            “Figured as much.”  The detectives gathered both pictures and stood up.  “I’d suggest, Winchester, that you have a long talk with your client about turning evidence on his bodyguard,” Hendricks declared.  “It’s pretty much the only chance he’s got!  We all know Castiel’s the one who did the deed. Levine talks and tells us what really happened?  Castiel goes away, and the most Levine gets charged with is conspiracy, possibly murder two or maybe even manslaughter.”

            “But if you don’t cut the bullshit, Levine?” Warner added, her voice hard.  “We’re going after you with everything we’ve got!  Castiel still goes away, but now so do you!  You will spend the rest of your life singing a very different song to a whole new captive audience!  And I guarantee they’ll be appreciative!  You will be performing every night, do you hear me, pretty boy?!”

            “Thank you and goodbye, detectives!” Winchester spat.

            Adam kept it together until the two detectives were gone.  Then he gave a little cry and pulled desperately on the cuffs.  “Get me out of here, Sam!” he cried.  “Someone set me up!  They think I murdered Blake, and if I can’t get to the park the night of the full moon, he’s really going to die!”

            “Adam!  Stop it!” Winchester was up, his arms wrapped around Adam.  “Listen to me, alright?  We’ll worry about Blake later.  Right now, our priority needs to be you!  You need to make some real decisions here, a-and you need to be calm and in full control to make them.  Can you do that?”

            Adam leaned heavily on the lawyer and eventually managed to control his panicked breathing.  “Please tell me that you can get me out?” he pleaded.  “Please tell me I’m not really going to jail!”

            Winchester rubbed at his face.  “What they found in that firepit?  It’s definitely a human body, b-but I’m betting that’s pretty much all they know.  Based on those pictures, it’s almost completely destroyed.  Not enough to identify, no DNA.  And you and I know for sure it isn’t Blake!  But when the site was discovered based on a tip from someone claiming they saw you and Castiel burning Blake’s body, combined with the other evidence from the house?”  He shook his head.  “It looks bad, Adam.  It looks really fucking bad!”

            “I’m being set up!”  Adam’s head was spinning.  “But why?  Why would anyone want to frame me like this?!”

            “Probably someone who wants to see you out of the public eye,” Winchester sighed.  “My money’s on any one of those assholes who have been threatening you, Adam.  Any idea who it could be?  Who hates you enough to frame you for murder?”

            “Oh, let me make you a list!”  Adam buried his face in his arms.  “Please, please get me out?”

            “I’ll do everything I can,” Winchester promised. “But right now, they’ve got enough to hold you, Adam.  I’m sorry, but they’re going to lock you up.”

            Adam immediately started to panic, and Winchester quickly wrapped his long arms around him once more.  “Shh, calm down now, and listen to me.  I will get you out of this, but it’s going to take time.”

            “Time we don’t have!  Blake’s got to get home on the full moon!”

            “I know, but Adam, even if I can’t get them to legally release you before that comes, we’ve still got Castiel!  You and I both know that there is no place on Earth that our angel can’t find you, right?  He can get you out, get you to the park long enough to do this spell.  A-and then afterwards, I’ll bring you and Blake both back here so those fucking detectives can kiss all three of our asses! They can try to charge you with breaking out of prison.  But if they do, I’ll nail them with all the homophobic bullshit that came out of Warner’s mouth today. I’ll have her badge, her job, and her ass!”  He pulled back, took Adam’s shoulder, and gave him a little shake.  “Once we bring Blake home, their entire case goes out the window.  All you need to do is just hang on, stay strong!  And I’ll keep working to get you released, alright?”

            Adam looked at him with frightened eyes. “What if Castiel doesn’t come back? What if something’s happened to him?”

            “Our angel will come back, Adam,” Winchester vowed. “That’s not even an option! Castiel _will_ come back!  Then we’ll get you out of this, and we’ll get Blake back.  Just hang in there, alright?  I’ll visit every day, and I’ll have the band and your agent keep pulling every string they can pull.”  He looked Adam straight in the eye.  “We will get you out, Adam.  Do you hear me?  You are not going to be here long!  Remember that, and stay strong!”

            Stay strong.  Adam nodded.  “I’ll try. What’s gonna happen to me now?”

            “I’ll try to make a case to have you separated from the general population,” Winchester offered.  “But you’re going to a state prison.  While I was waiting to be brought back to you, I overheard the desk clerks complaining that they’re planning to expedite you through central booking so they can transfer you today!  It’s unusual for them to transfer a prisoner so quickly, but that’s what’s happening here.  Someone is pulling some strings behind the scenes to move this case along.  I think what I told them was true.  They’ve got egg on their faces, Adam.  They’re under pressure to make this case.  So now they’re going to lock you up with the worst of the worst and hope it breaks you, gets you to turn on Castiel!”

            Adam eyed his lawyer, seeing the green eyes move away as Winchester shifted uncomfortably.  “What else?  Just tell me, alright?”

            “That’s something you might want to think about,” Winchester began.  “As myself, I’m mortified to even consider it.  But, um, a-as your defense lawyer?  I’m obligated to advise you.  You, ah, need to think about turning evidence against Castiel.”

            _“What?!”_  Adam was sure he hadn’t heard properly. “You want me to testify against Castiel? You want me to go under oath and lie, say that the guy who saved my life, who kept me sane, who kept us all on our feet and protected us, murdered my husband?!  You seriously want me to turn on our angel?!  Are you out of your fucking mind, Sam Winchester?!!”

            “No, dammit, I know exactly what I’m asking! But Adam, listen to this.  They can’t hurt Castiel.  He’s an angel!  H-he can walk right through the worst offenders in the state prison system, have every one of them attack him at once, and walk away without a scratch!  Honestly, I’d be more worried about the convicts!  But Adam?  We cannot say that about you!  You’re a wealthy celebrity, you’re attractive, and let’s be honest, you kind of lack a brain-mouth filter.  To a hardened criminal, you look like easy prey!  I’m very concerned about your safety!  You need to be very careful!”

            “While I throw our angel under a bus?!”

            “Castiel can handle it, and I suspect he’ll understand. You, though?”  Winchester carded his hands through his hair, brushing the shaggy locks out of his face.  “Adam, just consider it, is all I’m saying.  If we can convince the detectives you’re going to cooperate, m-maybe I can make this easier on you?  And we _will_ see our angel come back soon!  If I can’t get you out by the full moon, then Castiel will, alright?  Just hang on!”

            Hang on.  Right.  He could do that.  “Castiel told me that if I really needed him, I could call, and he’d hear me,” Adam remembered.  “But I’m scared to call him now!  If I call, and he doesn’t come now, then later when I really need him…?”

            “I can’t tell you what to do there, or how he’ll respond.  But I will keep trying to call him.  On his cell phone, I mean.  So far, every time I’ve called, it’s gone straight to voice mail.”  The lawyer chuckled in spite of himself.  “His voice mail says ‘This is my voicemail.  Make your voice a mail.’  First time I heard that, I laughed so hard I couldn’t leave a message!”

            Adam cracked a smile.  “Sounds about right.  Keep calling him.  And if anything goes wrong in here, well, I guarantee I won’t hesitate to scream for our angel!”

            “Scream as loud as you can,” Winchester urged.  “We need our angel now more than ever!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun wants to know where Cass is? Cannot believe Sam wants Adam to turn on him. Gets his reasoning for it, but come on! Says how do they know it’s Blake’s body? Thinks the anonymous call is evidence for lazy cops from some asshole who’s got an issue with Adam. Liked how Sam called the prejudice, because Warner clearly was!
> 
> Trivia Time!  
> Castiel just does not do well with cell phones.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoak_xF4Kh4
> 
> Want a voice mail message from our divine messenger?  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tekq8SZK7j8


	24. Cry To Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel has been gone for a week, and Adam is trying to survive in prison. Will his angel come to help him when Adam needs him the most?

            Adam grunted in pain, grimacing as he was slammed back against a wall.  He brought up his arms, knocking away the hands of the man who’d pushed him.  “I told you I don’t have any money!” he yelled. “They picked me up yesterday morning and brought me here last night.  I didn’t exactly have time to stop at an ATM now, did I?”

            “You’re a fucking rock star!  You got plenty of money!”

            “Yeah, well, not in here!” Adam retorted. “We’re both wearing the same uniform, pal, and I don’t even have commissary yet.  So get off of me!  You probably have more than I do right now.”

            Disgusted, Adam pushed past the man.  His heart was pounding, but he refused to show any fear.  _You’re a wealthy celebrity, you’re attractive, and let’s be honest, you kind of lack a brain-mouth filter.  To a hardened criminal, you look like easy prey!_   Well, that was certainly accurate.  Adam hadn’t bothered keeping track of the wolf whistles, leering looks, or flat-out gropings that he’d received since he’d been brought into the state correctional institute.  So far, he’d been able to walk away each time with minimal actual contact.  It helped that a couple of the guards had taken an interest and were watching out for him. 

            But the guards at night were the opposite case. Last night when he’d been locked into his cell for the first time, two guards had actually stood outside of his cell door, loudly talking to each other about the likelihood Adam would be sexually assaulted.  Right at his door, they’d made bets with each other about when it would happen and who it would be.  It was sickening, and terrifying.  Adam spent the long night lying in his bunk, dozing fitfully, listening and waiting for someone to attack him.  He shared a cell with three other men.  None of them had seemed particularly friendly.  He’d felt their eyes on him when he’d climbed into the open bunk. But thankfully, no one had touched him.

            The morning’s necessary business had been difficult. But Adam refused to be intimidated. Every man in the prison, Adam knew, took a shit in a small cell, with three other guys, in full view of anyone passing by in the hall.  He’d be damned if he’d be embarrassed about it.  No one had said a word.  Why would they?  They all had to do the same thing!  The three men in his cell still hadn’t said much to him.  They’d eyed Adam, muttered a bit among themselves.  But so far, while no one was friendly, none of them were overtly hostile.

            But if his cellmates were content to leave Adam alone for now, the same couldn’t be said of the rest of the population on Adam’s wing.  He’d drawn entirely too much attention in the shower this morning.  It seemed as if half the prison found an excuse to pass by and whistle or make some lewd comment about his body or his tattoos. Then someone had stolen his towel and uniform, resulting in his being forced to walk, dripping and naked, back to his cell for another.  That was when most of the groping had taken place, along with a number of slaps on his ass. For the most part, he’d been forced to put up with it.  He couldn’t fight the whole prison, which meant he couldn’t do anything more than snarl and shove people away when they got too close.  But more and more inmates had gathered, blocking Adam’s path.  He’d been surrounded before the guards finally noticed and took him safely back to his cell.  And the guards had acted as if the entire incident was Adam’s fault.  Apparently, he had to be a bit more careful about his belongings at the shower. 

            At breakfast, a group of inmates had crowded Adam at his table.  They’d taken most of his food.  That was bad enough.  But then two of them had grabbed his ass and a third had licked his neck.  Adam had promptly jumped up and swung at them, and the guards again intervened.  Now here he was at lunch, with another asshole in his face, this time thinking he’d have money.  Where would he have money?  Shoved up his ass?  Probably. Adam had been strip searched, just as he was sure every other inmate had been, when he’d been brought into the prison. He was pretty sure that was the only place someone could smuggle anything in.  But when would he have had the time to shove anything anywhere in the rush to get him into this prison?

            Yet despite his circumstances, Adam’s mind was focused.  Above everything else, he needed to get Blake back.  And only one person could help him with that – Castiel.  His angel had been missing now for five days, five long days with absolutely no contact.  From the moment he’d vanished from before their eyes at the ranch house, no one had seen hide nor hair of their angel.  Adam was sure something was wrong now.  There was no way he could believe that his angel would abandon him willfully, especially not in his current circumstance.  Something terrible had to have happened.  But Castiel had gone to Heaven!  What could have happened to him there?

            Then he remembered what Castiel had said, about how he’d rebelled against Heaven and fallen.  Was his angel being judged in Heaven now for his actions in the other universe?  Was he imprisoned, just as Adam was?  Castiel himself had said that it was possible to kill an angel.  What if Castiel hadn’t come back because he was dead?

            No, Adam told himself.  He couldn’t think like that.  Castiel would come back.  There was no other option.  In his heart, Adam believed that his angel would come if Adam really needed him.  He just wished there was something he could do to speed the process.

            Meanwhile, Winchester had kept his promise to visit daily. He was waiting for Adam now.  “How are you?” the lawyer asked when Adam was brought in.

            “Learning the ropes,” Adam told him, sliding into the chair across from Winchester with a sigh of relief.  “I had some trouble a few times with the other inmates, and I suspect that’s not going away any time soon.  But the guards are helping me, so nothing too bad yet.”

            “That’s actually not good either, Adam,” Winchester warned.  “I should have told you that.  Since you’ll only be here a short time, it might be alright.  But if the guards show you too much favoritism in here, it makes you a target.  Sometimes prisoners have issues with certain guards, so they’ll attack inmates they think those guards are close to in an attempt to get to the guard.  And some inmates just hate authority so much that they’ll attack anyone they think is getting special favor.  Then there’s also the occasional asshole guard who will extort you for protection.  Being who you are, you’ll need to watch out for that.”  He sighed.  “Being who you are, you’ll need to watch out for everything!  Dammit Adam, be careful!  You can’t trust anyone in here.  Don’t let them walk all over you, but don’t make too much of a fuss, either.  You’ll need to prove you’re not an easy target without drawing too much attention to yourself.  It’s a real fine line.  You’ll need to choose your battles very carefully!”

            “Thanks.”  Adam reached across the table and took the lawyer’s hands.  Winchester squeezed Adam’s hands reassuringly, but it wasn’t enough.  Adam needed more.  He let go, picked up his chair, brought it around next to Winchester’s and sat right next to him.  Then he put an arm around Winchester’s shoulders and leaned against the lawyer’s side. Much better.  “I’m scared to death about our angel,” Adam said, oblivious to the way Winchester stiffened.  “No one has heard anything at all from him?  It’s been five days!”

            “Adam, I need you to listen to me, ok?” Winchester said quietly.  “I haven’t known you for very long, but, um, I learned early on that you are a very tactile person.  I understand you need physical contact and positive touch, especially when you’re feeling upset or insecure.  God knows you must be feeling that now in here!  That’s you, and it’s fine.  I’m fine with it!  B-but at the same time, um, I have to remind you about what Detective Warner tried to insinuate about the two of us, alright?  She was out of line, but at the same time, she’s right.  And I’ve discovered she’s not the only one to think that way either, Adam.  People have been calling my law firm, my wife, my neighbors...  My partners are talking lawsuits over some of the shit being said about the two of us!”  He shook his head.  “Now, it’s illegal to record a client in conference with his attorney, but at any time, a guard could walk by and look in.  And we can’t control telescoping camera lenses, or drones peeking through the windows!  The press knows you’re here.  I saw the guards shoot down two drones that were buzzing around when I came in here! One picture of you in this prison is worth a fortune!  That means more will come.  And these reporters are going to get real creative!  You’re best off if you just behave as though you’re constantly being watched, because you probably are.  And that means you need to be very conscious about your actions, ok?”  He gave Adam an apologetic look.  “Adam, please think about how this looks, when you’re hanging on me like this?  I sorry, but I need for you to stay off of me.”

            That stung, far more than it should have.  After what he’d already been through and what might come, Adam was desperate for positive, reassuring touch.  But of course, his lawyer was right.  Right now, Adam couldn’t give two shits about his own reputation.  But he couldn’t bring Sam Winchester down with him.

            Adam reluctantly drew away.  He could feel himself withdrawing, folding into himself and raising his walls.  Suddenly he felt alone once more.  At least Winchester seemed to understand.  He reached over and put his hand on Adam’s arm, gently squeezing it. “Adam?” he said.  “I’m here.  Alright?”

            Adam nodded, trying to control his quick breathing. “Thanks, buddy.”

            Winchester shifted awkwardly.  “Have you thought about what I told you, about what you want to say about Castiel?”

            “I’m not lying about our angel to help myself!” Adam grumbled.  “I can’t, alright?  He’s innocent, and I can’t just stab him in the back, not even to save myself!  I can’t do it!  I still can’t believe you asked me to do it!”

            “I understand.  But are you sure that’s the best choice?”  Winchester’s green eyes were full of worry.  “Adam, I’m very concerned about your safety here!  And I’ve already registered my concerns.  I put the paperwork through for a quick hearing. But chances are, you won’t get bail. You’ve got money, you’ve got another house in California, you’ve got international connections…  You’re definitely a flight risk, Adam!  They’re not letting you out.  I’d put money on it!  We’re going to have to find another way to get you out in time to be at the park on the night of the full moon.”

            That meant Castiel.  And with no word from the angel, only God knew when Adam would see him again.

            The visit ended soon after that.  Adam knew that the lawyer was doing the best he could. Winchester had even given him a quick hug, which Adam had desperately needed.  But he’d pulled back quickly, mindful of prying eyes.  Adam been sullen and reserved when he’d been returned to his cell.  Naturally one of the asshole guards with him cracked some stupid comment about missing his boyfriend.  But Adam ignored him in favor of going quietly back into his cell.

            Dinner, at least, was uneventful.  That night, Adam lay in his bunk in his cell, staring into the darkness.  Tomorrow would mark his third day in prison, and six days since Castiel had disappeared. Everything in him screamed at him to call out for his angel, beg him to come and comfort him.  But Adam refused.  _“If you call for me, I’ll hear you.  And if you need me, I’ll come.”_   That was what Castiel had told Adam, when his angel had first let him know how to call him.  And the one time Adam had been in trouble and called for Castiel, his angel had come running.  But would he come now?  If Adam really was attacked, would his guardian angel respond to his call?

****

            The next day was better.  The novelty of Adam’s presence was still very much apparent. He still had people whistling, winking, making inappropriate remarks, and occasionally touching him, but for the most part, he was largely left alone.  He’d brought his towel and clothing right into the shower with him and kept them near, heedless of how damp they got.  Better wearing damp clothes for a few hours than doing another naked walk of shame.  When he’d noticed the assholes who’d stolen his food grinning at him in the mess hall, Adam had quickly and blatantly licked everything on his tray.  Then he’d all but inhaled his food.  Any time anyone tried to talk to him, Adam was polite, but kept his responses short, not inviting any sort of extended conversation. And he kept to himself.  He briefly joined in on a basketball game in the exercise yard, until he’d spotted the drone hovering near the fence.  Then he’d walked away, pointed at the drone until the guards noticed and shot it down, and spent the rest of the exercise period just strolling around the yard, grateful for a chance to exercise a little. For the most part, he was left alone. That was all Adam wanted.

            Winchester came again to visit after lunch, but he didn’t have much to report.  There was still no word from Castiel.  Arthur Ketch had called, but there had been some kind of delay and he had yet to make a personal appearance.  And while Adam was still in the news, most of the attention was now focused on the coming hearing.  “The most important thing is that you keep your story straight,” the lawyer advised. “Don’t deviate from what you’ve already said, and don’t add anything to it!  The less detail you give, the less there is to prove wrong.  You’ve already dug yourself into one hell of a hole, buddy, and I’ve got my work cut out for me to try to drag you back out.”

            That had done little to improve Adam’s mood. He’d thought he’d been clever, providing a believable story for what had happened to Blake.  Now he was learning he’d done precisely the wrong thing.  In trying to hide the truth, Adam had made everything so much worse.  He was his own worst enemy!  The knowledge had soured his mood, left him pacing in small, frustrated circles that annoyed his cell mates and earned him some dirty looks.  But Adam was incapable of holding still.

            Then, on the way out from dinner, one of the evening guards had stepped in Adam’s path.  “You know, you’re not gonna last in here, Levine,” the guard informed him. “Pretty boy celebrity like you?  You’re going to be this prison’s bitch!”  The guard leaned closer.  “You could make it easier on yourself.  Rich guy like you, you’ve got connections.  We could help you, if you help us?”

            It was the wrong thing to say to Adam now.  “Wow, already?!” he marveled, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been here a little less than two days, and already I’ve got crooked guards trying to extort me!”

            The guard raised an eyebrow.  “You mean friendly guards trying to help you, don’t you?” he said, a warning evident in his voice.

            “I mean you’re an asshole!” Adam snapped, finally reaching his limit.  “I’m not giving you a penny extra to do the job you’re here to do.  Fuckwads like you are the reason that prison guards have such a bad reputation!  You want to keep an eye on me because I’m rich?  If I was poor, what would you do then?  Pimp me out?!”

            The guard stepped forward until his nose was inches from Adam’s.  “You need to watch your mouth!”

            Adam held up a hand.  “You need to try some mouthwash if you’re going to get that close to me.  And then, you need to kiss my ass!  I’m not going to be here much longer anyway, so I’ll deal with whatever comes.  It’s a damned sight better than letting shitheads like you try to extort me!  And you can be damned sure that once I get out of here, I’ll make certain to mention your name, C.O. Benjamin!  Now get the hell out of my face!”

            Stepping away from the red-faced, furious guard, Adam stormed back to his cell, ignoring the attempts of another inmate to get his attention.

            Later, he wondered if it would have made a difference if he’d listened to the other inmate?  Or if he’d kept his temper in check and hadn’t mouthed off to the guard the way he had?  But in the end, there wasn’t anything Adam could have done to help himself.

            Exhausted and disheartened, Adam had gone to bed early. All he’d been thinking about was that tomorrow would be his fourth day behind bars, and a week since he’d last seen his angel.  He’d drifted off into troubled dreams.  And late at night, he’d been awakened by the sound of a click.  Before his sleepy mind registered that his cell door had been unlocked, they were already on him.  A hand clamped over his mouth.  More hands seized him, dragged him out of his bunk and then out of his cell.  Adam struggled helplessly, feeling himself carried down the hall.  Where were the guards?  How had his cell, and those of his attackers, been unlocked?  But of course, the answer was one and the same.  The guards were a part of this.  Whatever happened to him now, the guards were not only complacent, they were playing a willing part.  Hell, for all Adam knew, they might be recording it!

            Desperate, Adam reached out towards his only real hope of help.  “Castiel!” He frantically looked around, searching for his angel.  But Castiel didn’t appear.

            Laughter.  “Bitch is calling for his bodyguard!”

            “Sorry, Levine, but he ain’t coming!”

            Apparently, he’d called aloud for his angel.  Didn’t matter.  It seemed they’d arrived at their destination.  Adam was suddenly released to fall to the floor.  He hit with a thud and immediately started fighting.

            At first, Adam was giving as good as he got. He screamed for help as he punched, kicked, and head-butted, attacking anything that moved.  But it didn’t matter.  There wasn’t any point where someone else’s strength overcame his own. He was simply outnumbered.  There were over half a dozen men surrounding him now, raining punches and kicks on him until all he could do was curl up and try to protect himself as well as he could.

            He was still calling for help.  But he didn’t believe for a moment that any human assistance would arrive.  “Help me, Castiel!” he screamed.  “I need you!”

            “Your boyfriend ain’t coming!”

            “Fuck you!   _Castiel!”_

            A foot connected solidly with his ribs. Adam heard a snap.  Now every breath was painful.  “Stop!” he yelled.  “Why are you doing this?!”

            No answer but laughter and more blows.  Adam thought the answer was fairly simple. This was punishment, and a threat. Adam had refused to go along with the corrupt guard for “protection.”  Now he was being taught a lesson.  “Castiel, please!  Help me!”

            No sign of his angel.  No rescue.  But the beating had finally stopped.  Adam panted and looked up.  He was in the dining hall, in the back corner behind the tables.  Only the dim emergency lights provided any illumination. It was more than enough for Adam to see the leering grins of the inmates as they seized him, dragged him up and threw him face-down on the table.  Hands pinned him down, rubbed over his body, pulled at his uniform.  And Adam understood exactly what would happen next.  _“No!”_  Adam screamed, fought with all he had in him.  Not enough. This was really happening, and no one, no one was coming to help him.  “Castiel, please, I’m begging you!  Don’t let them do this to me!  Please help me!”

            Nothing but laughter, crude comments, and restraining, groping hands.  Adam kept fighting, ignoring the warnings and continued blows.  If this was going to happen, he vowed, if these monsters were really going to do this to him, he would make damned sure it was the hardest thing they ever did.  Maybe they’d succeed in raping him, but by God, they were going to pay for it!  But he was taking more and more of a beating. Another blow to the head left him reeling.  Hands were tugging on his uniform as the world spun, tearing it open, pulling it down to expose his shoulders and back, tangling his arms in the sleeves.  They tugged on his pants, dragging them down, removing the last scant protection Adam had.  Adam kept fighting as he peered past his attackers into the darkness of the room, calling again and again for his angel.

            No one.  No help.  No hope.

            And then the dim lights in the room were eclipsed by the blue-white blaze of a pair of furious eyes.

            The first inmate that went flying barely registered with the rest of Adam’s attackers.  But the second hit the wall with a sickening crack, tumbling down to land in a lifeless heap on the floor.  The remaining attackers finally recognized the danger.  Too late, they turned, abandoning their prey to face the newcomer.  They took in the sight of the blazing eyes, the silver dagger, the glowing outstretched hand, and the massive black wings.  And then the terrified screaming began as every man found himself flying back away from Adam, propelled by a powerful unseen force.

            Adam, finally released, slid down off of the table. Seated on the floor, he could only watch, stunned, as Castiel moved past him towards his attackers.  The angel was merciless.  Shrieks of pain followed wet snaps.  A silver blade flashed in the scant light.  Two more bodies lay on the floor.  Two inmates tried to limp away, only to be brutally dragged back to fall lifeless to the floor.  Another went smashing through a nearby table, landing in a still heap of broken limbs and debris.  Castiel had Adam’s final attacker against the wall and had his hand on the man’s head, similar to what Adam had seen the angel do to heal.  But this time, Castiel wasn’t healing.  The man screamed, light blazing through his eyes, his mouth, his skin. Then the inmate crumbled.

            Adam stared at the blackened sockets where the man’s eyes once were.  Then he glanced back at Castiel.

            The angel, it seemed, wasn’t finished.  He moved about the bodies with one hand outstretched.  His hand seemed covered with a glowing nimbus.  As Adam watched, Castiel raised his hand, and then brought it down sharply, appearing to throw something towards the ground.  Light streaked down towards the floor, passing into it.

            The entire prison shook, alarms blaring. Every light fixture in the ceiling above them exploded in a shower of sparks.  Windows blew out, and tables went tumbling into walls.  Terrified, Adam gave a cry, rolled under the table, curled up into a ball and threw his arms up to protect his face until the shaking finally subsided, leaving only stillness broken by flashing lights and alarms.

            Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at Castiel.

            The terrifying avenging angel was gone.  In his place, Castiel’s gentle blue eyes looked at Adam in concern.  For some reason, he was once more wearing the trench coat, suit and tie he’d been wearing when Adam had first discovered him in the crater.  Castiel was back to being the unassuming man Adam had first believed him to be.

            “Adam?”  The angel’s voice was soft, his grip on Adam’s shoulder light.  “I’m here.  You’re safe now.”

            Adam gave a little cry, climbed out from under the table and threw himself at his angel.  “Castiel!  Oh, thank God!  Where have you been?!”

            Castiel immediately held Adam, letting the distraught singer bury his face in the shoulder of his trench coat.  “I’m sorry,” he said, carefully pulling Adam’s uniform back into place.  “I was detained.  I heard you calling me, but I couldn’t come until my brother, Gabriel, interceded on my behalf.”

            Adam shuddered, looking around in a daze.  The mess hall was destroyed.  Lights and windows were shattered, bits of broken glass gleaming in the faint emergency lights.  Half of the tables were broken, most of them scattered against the walls. The walls and floor were an unspeakable mess, and broken bodies were all around them.  Adam shuddered.  “You just killed seven people!”

            “Yes.”  Castiel reached towards Adam’s forehead, but frowned and paused when Adam flinched back.  “I’m sorry if I upset you, Adam, but you’ve been beaten.”  The blue eyes narrowed, noting Adam’s visible injuries.  “They hurt you badly.  They were still beating you when I arrived, and they were going to rape you!  I saw no reason to hold back on filth like that. And after what they’d already done and were about to do to you, I had no intention of letting any of them go!”  He glanced towards the doorway, where shouting could finally be heard, and then turned back to Adam.  “I want to heal you now, and take you out of here.  Will you allow it?”

            “Yes!  Yes, please, get me out!”  Adam waited long enough to let his angel heal him.  Then he pulled Castiel in, clinging tightly and shaking as reaction set in. “You didn’t upset me, Castiel. You saved me!  I was…  They were going to…!”  Adam buried his head in Castiel’s shoulder and held on as tightly as he could, soaking up the familiar angel valium that only his angel was able to provide.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  “Castiel, thank you!  Thank you so much!  Now please, take me out of here?”

            Castiel’s arms wrapped around him, held him close. There was a fluttering sound, and suddenly Adam was blinking in the light.  He heard shouts of surprise, familiar voices, and turned to see a room full of welcoming faces.  It was the middle of the night!  What the hell was everyone doing still up?  But at the moment, he didn’t care.  He simply clung to his angel and didn’t let go, even as he hugged his friends with one arm.  The fact that he’d just been beaten and nearly raped was still sinking in.  Even though he knew he was safe now, wrapped in his angel’s comforting embrace, he just couldn’t stop shaking.

            Meanwhile, his friends were ecstatic.

            “Castiel!  You’re back, and you brought Adam!”

            “Oh, praise God!”

            “Where the hell have you been, man?”

            “Yeah, we were worried sick!”

            Maroon 5 was clustered around them, patting the two of them and shouting excitedly.  Adam squeezed his eyes shut and held tight to his angel, murmuring a prayer of thanks.  Castiel bore it patiently, calmly apologizing, explaining once more that he’d “been detained.”

            “What’s that mean?”

            “Yeah, how does an angel get detained?”

            “There are several ways, but I imagine it’s a story for another time,” a new voice with an unfamiliar accent called, silencing the others.  “Welcome home, Mr. Levine.  And this, I assume, is the angel?”

            Adam felt Castiel stiffen.  “Ketch!” he spat.  “What are you doing here?!”

            “I was invited.”

            Adam looked and saw a handsome, dark-haired man with cold eyes coming closer, hand outstretched.  “Mr. Shelton-Levine?  I’m Arthur Ketch.  I represent an organization called the Men of Letters.  We are scholars of the supernatural.  And I believe we should have a chat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when I read that fight scene to Mr. Fun, I played the song "Bodies" by Drowning Pool  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JZ9djZa180
> 
> Mr. Fun says he doesn’t like Ketch. Loved Castiel whooping ass! Was so glad he showed up. Thought that was pretty epic, especially the wing flare. Wants to know what he meant by “detained?” Figured the guards were going to try to extort Adam and wasn’t surprised they’d go this far to prove to Adam he needed their “protection.” Thought Adam shouldn’t have left, because now he just escaped prison!


	25. Bad Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel listens to Mr. Ketch's plans for him and the band, and learns some surprising things. But this world's version sounds a bit too much like the one Castiel knows for comfort.

            Castiel had heard humans speak often about having a “bad feeling” about places, people, or situations.  He’d always attributed it to the base animal instinct that they still possessed from their days of swinging from tree limbs.  Most animals had a sense for danger that enabled them to survive. Castiel had no way to know for sure, of course.  All he knew was that, without fail, any time he was around, all three of his friends back home had mentioned having “bad feelings” about Arthur Ketch.  Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate.  Bobby and Sam had talked about having “bad feelings” about the man.  Dean had referred to him as “that motherfucker” and generally responded poorly to anything involving the Englishman.  All three had expressed feelings of relief when Bobby had succeeded in uniting the American hunters in thwarting the attempts of Ketch and his organization to take over.  Now, the two groups had reached an uneasy truce.  As long as Ketch wasn’t involved, not even Dean minded working with the Men of Letters anymore.  But even the day before they’d set off for the disastrous efreet mission, Dean had complained about Arthur Ketch.

            But now, looking at the people in Adam’s living room, Castiel caught none of the telltale signs of “bad feelings” towards this version of Arthur Ketch. Ketch was the same stern, intense man Castiel had briefly met in his own world.  The members of Ketch’s group, as a rule, had lumped all supernatural beings into a single group that they considered “monsters” and generally looked down on indiscriminately.  Angels were no exception.  The Men of Letters’ reactions to Castiel had ranged from indifference to contempt.  They usually referred to him as “the angel” rather than his name, making it clear they thought less of him due to his non-human status, and rarely spoke to him except to bark orders.  As a result, Castiel was immediately wary of Ketch.  But even the lawyer Sam Winchester was looking at the Englishman with an expression of respect.  Apparently, the man had set himself up as a knowledgeable expert and had been giving Adam’s friends a great deal of direction.

            Ketch didn’t seem surprised at all by the sudden appearance of the two of them in the living room.  The band had likely told him the entire story, which explained why they were up so late at night.  The only thing that had made the man’s eyebrows go up was when Adam refused to let go when Ketch had immediately wanted to separate Castiel from the rest of the group. But Ketch had been surprisingly agreeable.  “Keep the angel nearby if you wish, then.  Whatever you desire.  You can sit right here, Mr. Levine, and the angel can…”  He blinked, noting where Adam chose to sit.  “Or, you can just sit in the angel’s lap?  There you are.  Gone through a bit, have you?”

            “You could say that again!”  Adam’s body was still shaking a bit at times.  But he’d calmed down considerably.  He clung to Castiel, slumped to the side with his head on the angel’s shoulder, and did not appear to have any intention of leaving any time soon. Castiel held him patiently and patted him like a small child.  Whatever Adam needed.

            “Castiel?”  PJ’s voice was warm, but Castiel could see the lingering pain in the man’s eyes. “Where have you been, buddy?  It’s been a week!  You left and we didn’t have any idea where you were, if you were alright, or even if you’d ever come back!”

             “I want to apologize for my absence,” Castiel said humbly.  “My appearance in Heaven caused, well, I had a certain amount of explaining to do.  I couldn’t return until I’d handled that, and even then, my brother, Gabriel, had to speak up on my behalf.”

            Gasps rose from the room.  “Gabriel?!” PJ squeaked.  His eyes were huge.  “You mean, like, ‘For unto you a child is born’ Gabriel?!!!”

            “The archangel, yes,” Castiel confirmed with a nod.  “You know of him in this universe, too, then.”  He sighed, oblivious to the stunned expressions of everyone except Ketch.  “My business with the hosts of Heaven isn’t complete yet, but when I return to my own universe it will no longer matter.  It just all came to a head at an especially inconvenient time.  I’m sorry, especially to you, Adam.  I wish I’d gotten there sooner, kept you from being beaten.”

            “You got there in time to prevent worse,” Adam replied, barely audible over the shouts that statement produced.

            Castiel held him, patiently offering what support he could as Adam explained what had happened to him that night in the prison.  Adam would never know what Castiel had been shown, that glimpse of the future.  How the singer had refused to give up, even when no one and nothing had come to help him. How Adam had fought his rapists until one of them had struck him once too often and his body had gone still forever. Castiel had been permitted to return in time to prevent the rape and murder from happening.  And if clinging to Castiel now could help Adam deal with the beating, well, so be it.  Castiel would deal with the consequences later.  But for now, the living room was in an uproar.

            “Calm down!” Ketch shouted.  “We’re all quite pleased that the angel was able to rescue Mr. Levine.  However, it creates a rather significant problem.  If the angel came in the way Levine described and left behind seven bodies, especially if any of them were killed in ways that are difficult to explain by natural means?”

            Adam nodded when Ketch looked to him for confirmation.  “There was one guy he burned the eyes out of.”

            Ketch sighed, shaking his head amidst the shocked gasps.  “Then there’s no way our organization won’t be involved!”

            “Who are you guys?” Adam wanted to know.

            “The Men of Letters is an international group of scholars,” Ketch explained.  “We study the supernatural and maintain the finest collection of lore on the planet. While the organization itself is interested only in the collection of knowledge, we do work closely with hunters. In fact, I am a hunter myself.”

            “So, you’re not a group of monster hunters?”

            “No, but we do guide and direct them,” Ketch corrected.  “It hasn’t been too long now that we took over the organization of monster hunting here in America.  The result has been that the number of monsters active in this country is at an all-time low.  We search for monster activity, and if any is found, we assign a case and a hunter.  The monster is then eliminated quickly and discretely.”

            That sounded entirely too much like what Ketch’s organization had offered in his own universe, and it made Castiel frown.  Apparently, this was the reason why he’d had so much trouble finding hunters, when he wouldn’t have had nearly as much difficulty in his own universe.

            “The key word, of course, is discrete,” Ketch continued.  “The Men of Letters are extremely well-connected, especially with lawmakers and law enforcement, for reasons that are perhaps obvious.  In keeping with our goal of protecting humanity from monsters, we work hard to keep their very existence a secret.  By doing so, we prevent the panic that would result if such a thing were known.  Our organization is ancient, and well-entrenched. Now, before you arrived, Mr. Levine, I had just finished explaining all of that to your lawyer and your bandmates here. And now you tell me this!”  Ketch shook his head.  “Normally, while it would be difficult, even something like this we could generally make disappear.  But with you being so high-profile and this many bodies left behind, I’m afraid we’ll have little choice.  The attack will have to be covered up as a riot that took place to facilitate a prison break.  And that will, of necessity, implicate the angel as the prime suspect behind the attack. Mr. Winchester, do you agree?”

            Winchester was red in the face and obviously upset.  He was pacing around with his hands and jaw clenched.  But when Ketch called on him, he grimaced, glanced at Adam, quickly dropped his gaze, and then nodded.  “I already knew they were going to pin it all on Castiel,” he said.  “There’s no doubt about that now.”

            “Why?” Matt wanted to know.  The drummer was shaking in fury.  “They let Adam get attacked!  Those assholes going to report that they let a bunch of inmates beat and try to rape a man, and an angel came in and fucking holy rolled their asses for them?!  Get real!”

            “Yeah, I’d love to hear them try that!”

            “That’d be a lawyer’s wet dream!”

            “Winchester can laugh them all the way to the bank, right, buddy?”

            “Regardless of what they report as to how it happened, the fact remains that Adam isn’t there,” Winchester pointed out.  “That means he escaped.  But Adam’s hardly Houdini!  He couldn’t have found a way to escape from a state prison alone.  And that means he had to have help.  The obvious person to have helped him isn’t an angel, it’s a bodyguard with military training.  And that means Castiel!”  He glanced apologetically at Castiel, and then quickly lowered his gaze again.  “I’m sorry.  I hate it as much as you do, but our angel is going to take the fall for this!”

            “No way!” Adam yelled over the others, tightening his grip on Castiel. “I told you, I don’t want any of this pinned on him!”

            “There isn’t a choice now, Adam,” Winchester sighed.  “Blake’s another matter, but this?  Castiel is known to have some sort of military background, and has close ties to you.  He’s the only one who could have conceivably pulled this off.  Plus, there’s already a warrant out for his arrest for Blake’s murder! There’s no doubt in my mind he’ll be charged for this prison break, possibly the murder of those seven inmates as well.”  The green eyes looked miserable as he looked at Castiel.  “Castiel, I’m sorry.”

            “It’s alright,” Castiel replied.  “I did, in fact, break Adam out of prison, after all.  Here we are, and here he is, still in the prison uniform. And while I don’t understand why anyone would care about their deaths, I did destroy those seven men, and cast all seven of their souls down to Hell.  If it comes to that, I’ll face whatever charges are levied against me.”

            “Is _that_ what you did?!” Adam asked, incredulous.  “That’s what caused that earthquake?”

            When Castiel nodded, every face in the room paled except for Ketch.  The Man of Letters rolled his eyes.  “Oh, please!” he spat.  “Why is any of this coming as a surprise to any of you?  He’s an _angel,_ not the bloody Good Fairy!  And angels, gentlemen, are not cute naked little cherubs frolicking about the clouds.  They’re not lovely ladies guiding children over a bridge.  They are warriors!  Or have you never heard of Sodom and Gomorrah?”  He shook his head.  “Their kind are capable of leveling entire cities!  It’s nothing for one of them to destroy seven inmates!  And as for casting their souls into Hell, by the sound of it, that was a fate rightly deserved.  I imagine the angel has just gathered Hell’s attention to himself, though, so we’ll have to keep an eye out for curious demons.  It’s for the best that he’s removed from your group, taken to one of our safe houses.”

            The band immediately protested, but Castiel sighed deeply.  “Yes, that’s true.  I can handle demons, but I should distance myself from the rest of you, to avoid drawing attention to you.”

            “Then I’m coming with you,” Adam declared.  “I’m just as much a part of this as you are!  If you go to a safe house, then I go, too!”

            “We’ll discuss that later,” Ketch announced.  “For now, we’ll plant the story that the angel, as a human mercenary, used contacts within the prison to organize a riot.  If there was any sort of measurable tremor, we can pass it off as the use of explosives.  Then the police will surmise that he came in during the confusion and broke Levine out.  As an added bonus, we’ll have the guard who tried to extort you, C. O. Benjamin, you said, Mr. Levine?  We can arrange for circumstances that strongly suggest he was the inside man.  As a result, he’ll be found dead, and be considered a fatality from this incident.”

            Once again the room was in an uproar.  Ketch pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I understand this is very new for all of you,” he said, his accent suddenly clipped from his irritation.  “The taking of human life is not something we undertake lightly.  But the angel killed seven inmates, not guards!  Those deaths will be attributed to the rioting that took place to facilitate Levine being taken out of prison.  We can arrange to have the bodies cremated to hide the true cause of death and pass it off as an error.  But under no circumstance could such a break-out have happened with no loss of life among the guards!”  He looked around the room, his eyes locking on Winchester.  “I know, as a lawyer, this will be especially hard on you.  You’re a legacy of the Men of Letters, Mr. Winchester, but I get the impression you’ve had no prior experience with the supernatural?”

            The lawyer shook his shaggy head.  “None whatsoever.  I had no idea my grandfather was part of your group!  Dad always said he was just a mean drunk who eventually drank himself to death!” He grimaced.  “I’m kind of glad to hear we had any kind of family legacy that didn’t come out of a bottle, to be honest.  But no.  This is all pretty new to me, too.”

            “Understandable, and acceptable,” Ketch encouraged.  “When this is over, if you’re interested, we can talk about what future my organization can offer you.  But it proves the point that I am the only one here with any experience at managing this sort of incident!  Might I remind all of you that there is an angel seated in this very room?!”  He pointed an accusing finger at Castiel.  “We have passed beyond the point where traditional human law takes precedence.  Now you’re in our bailiwick!  This will be extremely difficult as it is and will impose a severe strain on our resources. The loss of life of one of the guards, combined with the injuring of a few others, will reinforce the need for absolute secrecy!”

            “We’re taking about taking a human life!”

            “And injuring others?!”

            “Come on, Ketch, this is crazy!”

            “Gentlemen!” Ketch snapped.  “Prior to the arrival of the angel, none of you had any idea the supernatural existed. How do you suppose that is?  Who, I ask, do you believe is responsible for that?” He shook his head, looking disgusted. “Bloody hell, just how stupid can you all be?!  Did you think, all of this time, that we had no idea you had an angel with you?  Did you not think it odd that you had such a creature among you, an angel from another universe, and yet you were never disturbed by a single monster seeking him out?  The Men of Letters have been monitoring the angel for weeks now! We’ve had operatives in place around you this entire time, making absolutely certain you remained unmolested. During that time, we have killed, banished, or driven off over a dozen monsters, including two demons!  You’ve been protected, you sodding gits!  And I have personally taken a special interest in your case.  I’ve been watching, gathering information, waiting until we understood enough about the angel’s motivations and intents to move in and make contact.  That’s why you haven’t been able to reach hunters.  We were already here!”  He shook his head again.  “All of this time, while you’ve been playing house with an angel, it is I who has been your true guardian angel!  And you’ve had no idea!  I’ve taken care of you up until now.  I’m sorry that Levine was attacked, but the truth was we’d already arranged for a riot to take place this very day to facilitate Levine’s escape.  I’ve been watching over you, protecting you, because that is my job!  Now let me continue to do that job!”

            Silence.  Castiel grimaced.  Of course. He’d known from the start that, as an angel from another reality, he was a prize for monsters.  And yet, he’d never seen a single one.  He’d been shielding himself, but he knew he must have given himself away multiple times in his tenure with Adam and the band.  He should have realized that it wasn’t normal to have seen no sign of any monster activity whatsoever.  Once again, Castiel was forcefully reminded that he was simply not cut out to be a hunter, or a detective.  The Sam Winchester here couldn’t have known, but his own would have guessed long ago.  Dean would have realized something was wrong, and Bobby would certainly have figured it out. But he’d been oblivious.  All this time, he’d been searching for hunters. And the whole time, those same hunters had been all around him.

            Ketch nodded, seeing the wide eyes and shocked expressions around the room. “To be perfectly blunt, you do not have a choice here,” he declared.  “Our organization will do as we must in order to hide the presence of a supernatural creature.  And I expect three things from everyone in this room.”  He raised one finger.  “First, I expect absolute secrecy.  Nothing spoken of here must ever leave this room.”  He raised a second finger.  “Two, and most important, I expect and will receive your absolute loyalty.  You’ve only brushed the surface of what is out there, gentlemen!  All of our operatives are vetted, highly trained, well organized, and equipped with the best that money can buy because it is necessary!  Our organization and those we employ and are associated with are responsible for the protection of the entire human race!  So apologies, but the loss of the life of a single corrupt prison guard simply cannot compare.”  His eyes rested on Castiel.  “And the personal feelings of an angel do not even register!”

            Castiel locked eyes with Ketch without a word and gave the man a slight nod. In his world, the brothers and Bobby would have fought against what Ketch was proposing and searched for an alternative.  But things were different here.  Adam and his friends were musicians, and even Sam Winchester was a lawyer.  None of them had the experience with the supernatural that Ketch did.  Therefore, none of them knew any different.  Castiel had no way to be sure himself.  For all he knew, Ketch was right.  Castiel didn’t like it, but he couldn’t change it, especially now.  “Understood,” he said aloud.

            “Which brings me to item three.”  Ketch narrowed his eyes at Castiel, and then looked around the room once more.  “It’s become quickly apparent to me that the lot of you have, shall we say, fond feelings for this angel?  But there is something I wish to be sure that everyone here understands.”  He leveled a finger at Castiel.  “This angel is not from this world.  He doesn’t belong here, and it’s vital that he’s sent back to where he does belong!  Are we all in agreement to that?”

            “Of course we agree to that!” Adam snapped.  He was still clinging to Castiel, but now he was glaring up at Ketch. “Castiel’s got someone waiting for him, and Blake needs to come home.  We’ll do whatever it takes to get everyone back where they belong!”

            “Good!  I’m glad we all agree!”  Ketch clapped his hands.  “Now to further business.  With the angel back and Levine safe, the immediate need has passed.  But it is vital that both the angel and Mr. Levine are present at the appointed time and place to open this portal, rescue Mr. Shelton, and return the angel.  Tomorrow, I’ll arrange for both to stay at one of our safe houses, where they’ll be well protected from any monster activity until they can be escorted to this park for the spell.”  He turned to the band.  “Now, prior to the arrival of Mr. Levine, you gentlemen were explaining that you’d enlisted the assistance of a couple of witches?”

            “Yeah,” Mickey agreed.  “They’re altering the spell to open the portal so we can use it.”

            “I see.  And what did they ask in return?”

            “Our angel,” Mickey said, looking uncomfortable.  “They want to talk to him and get some samples…”

            “Out of the question!” Ketch snapped.  “Please tell me that they haven’t already gotten their hands on anything from the angel already?”

            Mickey’s eyes had widened.  He rocked back slightly on his heels.  “No! They didn’t touch him!”

            Ketch’s eyes narrowed.  “But you did give them something, didn’t you?”

            “W-well, they drew blood from Adam, and then came back later and drew some more from Winchester?”

            “Whatever for?!”

            “Because they both traveled to the other world.  They said that would make their blood powerful?”

            Ketch picked up the glass he’d been drinking from and hurled it with stunning violence against a wall.  “Foolishness!” he roared as it shattered.  “To willingly give known witches a sample of your life’s blood? Have you any idea how much power that gives them over you?!  And if the two of you did indeed travel to the other world, the power they could wield from your blood would be even stronger!  The only thing worse would be to let them have the angel!”  He whirled on Castiel.  “Angel, why would you agree to such a thing?!”

            “I wasn’t aware of the blood,” Castiel confessed.  “I never met these witches.  But if their situation was as desperate as it likely was, they probably saw little choice.”

            “Of course there was a choice!” Ketch yelled.  “They should have refused!”

            “Hey, listen, asshole, you weren’t there, ok?” James defended.  “We were flying blind until those witches came along because the hunters wouldn’t talk to us!”

            “Yeah, what else could we have done?” Jesse agreed.  “We couldn’t talk to hunters, couldn’t reach our angel... We didn’t know it was that bad!”

            Ketch rubbed at his temples.  “Alright, that seals it.  It’s through no fault of your own, but you’re simply not equipped to deal with a supernatural creature, especially not one as powerful as this angel!  I’m afraid I’ll have to take measures.  Angel, I’ll have your arm, please?”

            Castiel looked up at the man, and saw him reach into his pocket for something that gleamed silver.  Then his view was blocked by multiple bodies that had moved with astonishing speed to stand between him and the Man of Letters.  Even Adam had shifted so that he was shielding Castiel with his body, one arm held out over the angel.  Castiel blinked in surprise.  The entire group suddenly seemed confrontational.  Even the level-headed lawyer looked upset.  What was that about?

            “Two things,” PJ began.  He definitely appeared confrontational.  “One, our angel isn’t ‘angel.’  He’s got a name, and it’s Castiel.  Don’t refer to him as ‘Angel’ again!  Two, you’re not putting anything onto Castiel until we know exactly what it is and what it will do.  And even then, only if Castiel agrees to it!”

            “You can’t be serious!”  Ketch actually sounded surprised.

            “Lay one finger on our angel?” Adam invited.  “And you’ll find out just how serious we can be!”

            Ketch sneered at him and appeared to be about to retort.  But then he took another look around, suddenly realizing that he was the sole minority, facing down a group of eight angry, protective men. “I see,” he called.  “Bugger me!  You’re really going through with this, with preventing me from doing the very job that you yourselves called me here to do?!”

            “We called you here to help us, not to mess with our angel!”

            “Yeah!”

            “You’re not doing shit to Castiel!”

            “What are you trying to pull?”

            “Mr. Ketch, I’m afraid we have to insist on full disclosure here,” Winchester said sternly.  “What are you trying to do to our angel?”

            “Oh really, this is quite out of line!  Do you even hear yourselves, calling him ‘Our angel?’  He doesn’t belong to you, and you certainly cannot control him!  Wasn’t what happened at the prison proof enough of that?!  We are speaking of a rogue, out-of-control angel from another dimension who has, by my count, now taken a total of eight human lives!  I’m only trying to ensure the safety of humanity, as per my mandate!” Ketch protested. 

            “What are you trying to do, Ketch?!” Matt asked.  His voice and expression were calm, but the way he clenched his fists seemed rather alarming.

            Ketch sighed dramatically.  Then he displayed what appeared to be a silver bracelet.  “This is what I was planning to utilize.  It was forged from an Enochian blade, the weapon of the angels. It’s a manacle, of sorts, and...  Oh, do try to remain calm, gentlemen?”  He raised his voice, seeing the hostile looks he was getting.  “Might I remind you that the ang- that Castiel, has already disappeared on you once?  While I’m willing to concede that he may not have intended to stay away for so long, the fact remains that you lost him for a week.  Now we are rapidly approaching the point where he absolutely must be present! There is a human life at stake, one that the lot of you are apparently quite concerned about.  And this manacle will prevent him from easily running off by limiting his powers.”

            “What the fuck does that mean?!”

            “Yeah, what kind of limits?”

            “What the hell are you trying to do to our angel, asshole?!”

            “Adam?” Castiel called quietly.  “Let me up.”

            Sudden silence.  Adam got off of his lap and Castiel got up, moving around the protective group to Ketch. He glanced down at the manacle in the man’s hand, noting the Enochian runes.  Then he locked eyes with the Man of Letters.  “If he locks that onto me, it will lock much of my Grace away,” he explained. “I won’t be human, but I’ll be close. No flying, no healing, and my strength will be greatly decreased.  I won’t have much beyond the resources of my human vessel.”

            “All of which is necessary to ensure your cooperation!” Ketch insisted.

            “I’ll cooperate of my own will,” Castiel retorted.  “I have every intention of being at the park on the night of the full moon to cast this spell.”

            “And I’m to simply take your word on it?  The word of a murderous rogue angel from another reality?”  Ketch shook his head.  “I’m afraid that’s not good enough.  If…”

            “He said no!”

            “You got a hearing problem or something?”

            “If Castiel says he’ll cooperate, that’s all you need!”

            “You don’t get to collar him, Ketch!”

            “Yeah, he’s not a fucking dog!”

            “Touch him, and I swear I will...!”

            “Guys!”  Winchester was the only human in the room who appeared capable of keeping calm.  “Mr. Ketch, I understand you have a job to do here. But you’re not forcing anything on Castiel, especially if he won’t be able to get it off!”

            “Fine.”  Ketch reached into his pocket again and produced a silver key.  He held up the manacle and made a show of snapping it shut and then unlocking it with the key.  “This is the key to the manacle.  I will leave it with you, on the understanding that the ang-, my apologies, that Castiel, does not have free access to it.  I suggest you hold onto it, Mr. Winchester, as the legal authority present for this group.  But understand!”  Ketch’s eyes traveled, meeting the gaze of everyone in the group.  “I do not believe that you fully understand just what it is you have here. The powers of an angel are immense! As fond as you all clearly are of him, Castiel has no ties to this universe.  That means there is nothing in Heaven, Hell, or on the Earth to keep him in check!  Therefore, I must insist that some measures be taken to control him!”

            Immediately the shouting began, but Castiel held up a hand.  “I agree,” he said.  “Give the key to him, and I’ll wear the manacle.”

            “Castiel, come on!” Winchester protested in the sudden shocked silence. “You don’t even know me!”

            Castiel looked directly into the worried green eyes.  “I trust you, Sam Winchester.”

            Winchester grew pale as all eyes turned to him.  Then he nodded, accepting the key.  “A-alright, if you’re sure.”

            “I’m sure.” 

            “Hold it!”  Sam Farrar’s blue eyes were narrow as he looked at Ketch.  “Why the fuck are you so insistent on controlling Castiel?  And why did you just happen to have that thing on you in the first place?”  He straightened.  “You came in here with every intention of locking up our angel!  What the hell are you planning to do with him?!”

            Ketch sneered.  “He himself agrees with the necessity.  So I’d advise you to get out of my face, _boy!”_

            Farrar’s face flushed and he tightened his fists.  Matt, his face a thundercloud, moved closer.  But Castiel grabbed their arms.  “Enough,” he called.  “It’s alright.  This isn’t worth fighting over.  Ketch is right.  He’s got no reason to trust me, and every reason to be cautious.  So let him lock me up, for now.  I’ll be fine.”  Stepping in front of the members of Maroon 5, Castiel held out his hand towards Ketch.

            Ketch immediately tried to take his wrist, and Castiel abruptly pulled away. Then he again held out his hand. The Englishman eyed him for a moment before putting the manacle into Castiel’s hand.

            Adam was immediately at Castiel’s side.  “You don’t have to do this, buddy,” he called anxiously.

            “It’s alright.”  Castiel closed the manacle around his wrist.  Immediately, he felt the effect.  It was as if his strength was suddenly gone.  Unable to suppress a small groan, Castiel stumbled.  Hands grabbed for him, steadied him on his feet. Castiel saw those near him exchange startled glances.  Then they turned to glower at Ketch.

            Ketch pinched his lips.  “It’s necessary,” he insisted.  “Remember, he is a rogue angel!  Winchester can free him if there’s urgent need, with the understanding that he must be immediately restrained again once the need is past.  But he _must_ be restrained until such time as he’s ready to return to his own universe! That is not optional!”

            “It’s alright,” Castiel repeated, straightening again.  “It’s not hurting me.”

            “Like hell it isn’t!”

            “Castiel, you just about fell over!”

            “This is bullshit, Ketch!”

            “I’m alright!” Castiel called loudly.  “And I agree.  I’ll wear it, and it will only come off if there’s an urgent need.”

            “Cheers,” Ketch called.  He clapped his hands together.  “And now it’s my turn to get to work.  Tell me about these two witches.”

            Mickey told him what he knew.  “They’re working on that spell for us,” he reminded.  “Don’t go all James Bond on them, Ketch!  I’m not happy that they apparently fucked us over, but we still need their help!”

            “I will arrange for you to get the spell,” Ketch assured.  “We want this portal opened as badly as you do.  And I will also deal with these witches and get that blood back.  I’d ask you not to do anything so foolish again!”  He sighed, noting the looks he was getting.  “I’m sure, to you, our methods may seem harsh.  But we are experts in our field.  The simple fact that we’ve protected you this long is proof enough of that!  Now, I do apologize for the difficulties you’ve had obtaining assistance, but understand, through our tenure, we have made many enemies.  I personally took charge of your case and ordered that no hunter make contact with you until I made the initial contact myself.  In order to protect our assets, it was necessary that we monitor you and establish just how much of a threat we were dealing with.”

            “Castiel’s no threat to anyone, unless someone tries to hurt us!” PJ declared.  He smiled fondly at Castiel.  “He’s our bodyguard!  Try to hurt one of us, and he’ll smite your sorry ass straight to Hell! But other than that, he’s as gentle as can be!”

            “And that is why I’m only insisting he be restrained with this cuff. Otherwise, I’d be forced to take him into custody.  What we’re doing here is a gesture of mutual trust.”  He smiled at Adam.  “I know, for you, this has been a terrible ordeal, but don’t worry.  We’ll get Mr. Shelton safely home.  We don’t want a human being lost in another version of reality any more than we want a rogue angel in ours.  We will do all in our power to get Mr. Shelton home and ensure that Castiel returns safely to his own universe.  You’re in good hands!”  Ketch nodded, looking everyone over.  “Now you’ve got my contact information.  If there are any further issues, if you’re contacted by any more witches, or if you simply have questions?  Please don’t hesitate to call.  This case is currently my most vital and I intend to see it through.  Gentlemen, I am at your disposal.  And unless I hear from you before, I will see you all in the park on the night of the full moon.  I’ll need to intercept this ‘King of Hell,’ after all, and you’ll need someone of my expertise to cast this spell.”  He smiled.  “I’ll take care of everything, and you will continue to be protected.  You have my word on it.”

            Castiel was noting the reactions of the group.  They still looked somewhat upset, but he could see them relaxing slightly. That was something he’d noted often with the Winchesters in his world, especially when they were called in to help.  Once the hunters, the experts, were on the scene? Most people tended to relax and trust in their expertise.  He’d even seen the same effect when the brothers had played FBI.  Before anything was even done, the fact that “the professionals” had arrived tended to have a calming effect.

            The exception here was Adam.  Whatever Ketch had told the group before their arrival, Adam hadn’t been present for it. When Ketch was being escorted to the door on his way out, Adam had already taken Castiel’s arm and was fiddling with the manacle.  And as soon as the Englishman was gone, he was quick to voice his opinion.  “I say we take it off, right now,” he declared. “Farrar’s right!  That son of a bitch had this thing in his pocket!  He came in here ready to lock up our angel, and Castiel wasn’t even here!  And did you guys catch how pissed off he got when Farrar called him on that?!  I think he was just waiting for an excuse to lock this fucking thing onto him, guys! I don’t like it!”

            “I don’t like it, either,” James admitted.  “But we’ve been trying to find hunters all this time, not knowing they’d been protecting us!”  He snorted. “These hunters must be damned good. I had no idea anyone was watching us, and they apparently even got past the FBI!  And this Ketch guy?  He actually runs the hunters in this country!  We’re talking top of the food chain here, Adam.  The Men of Letters are responsible for the whole network, and Ketch is a hunter in his own right.  He’s got real hands-on experience, something we haven’t had to this point except for that little bit of time we had the other Sam Winchester.  And Hunter Sam’s the one who knew the codes to get into their network, which is how we got this guy’s attention!  We gotta trust Ketch knows what he’s doing.”

            “He obviously knows what he’s doing,” Matt called.  “This whole Men of Letters shit?  If they can do even half of what he claims, then he’s someone we kind of need on our side.  So, yeah, I agree.”

            “I don’t,” Mickey grumbled.  “Honestly, guys, my stomach is churning, wondering what this guy’s going to do about that blood.  Hurt and Sorrow were a couple of douches, and yeah, they pulled the wool over our eyes. But that right there shows we gotta be real careful about trusting these people!”

            “Hurt and Sorrow?” Castiel asked, confused.

            “The witches,” Adam explained with a sigh.  He was still fussing with the manacle, but he looked up at the rest of the group.  “Anyone else got an opinion to weigh in here?”

            “I don’t know about Ketch,” PJ began, “but I trust our angel.  If he was willing to let this guy lock him up, then I say we trust him.”  He shook his head, reached out, and took Castiel’s shoulder, and frowned.  “It just bothers me, what that thing on your arm is doing to you, Castiel!  Did you guys see him stumble?  And then, when I caught hold of him, I didn’t feel his power anymore!  I still don’t!  Do you, Adam?”

            Adam took Castiel’s hand and placed it on his cheek.  He waited for a moment, and then shook his head.  “No.  Even with skin-to-skin contact, I don’t feel it at all.  This thing is obviously working!  That’s why I need opinions.  Who else has one?”

            “I’m anxious about what reassurance we have from this entire group,” Sam Farrar said.  “We finally are starting to see just how big this Men of Letters thing really is. We’re talking about a guy who can apparently just snap his fingers and make a prison riot appear, complete with a dead guard!  If he’s got that much power over muggles, then what kind of pull does he have with the real scary stuff?  Did you not hear him say that his people took out two demons?!”  He looked at Castiel.  “You wanted to find hunters because they know so much about the supernatural, right? Well, Ketch is top of the food chain, just like he said.  So how much can he do all by himself?  If Ketch gets that blood back from Hurt and Sorrow, what’s he going to do with it? If it’s powerful, then wouldn’t it be valuable to his group, too?  And now, the first official act he does as our hunter savior is lock up the one defense we’ve got against the supernatural!  As long as Castiel’s locked up, we have to rely completely on Ketch because we no longer have another option!”  He rubbed at his face.  “I don’t know, guys.  He seems legit, but he’s just so quick to do whatever he feels is necessary to accomplish his goals, and he doesn’t care who he has to go around or through to get there! I still say he’s got a too much interest in controlling Castiel.  He came in here with that manacle in his pocket, even though we’d already told him Castiel wasn’t here when he called.  And he’s been watching us, guys!  How creepy is that?!  Before he met him, he’d already decided that Castiel was a rogue and therefore dangerous. He always intended to lock up our angel!”  He shook his head violently, his shaggy dark locks flying.  “I hate that Castiel’s restrained!  I cannot believe I stood by and let it happen!  I say we let him go!”

            “Not to mention the way Ketch kept referring to him as ‘the angel,’” Jesse noted. “That son of a bitch treats Castiel like he’s an animal, and I’m over it!  I agree.  Let him go!”

            “Something we should think about,” Winchester said.  “We are talking about a man who apparently has the resources to create a prison riot complete with fatalities!  What is he going to do to us if we cross him?  Some of us have families!”  He nodded, seeing the reactions among the group.  “B-but even if he stays away from us, what about Castiel? Farrar makes a good point.  Ketch has already decided our angel’s a rogue and took steps to control his powers.  If he came in here ready to lock up our angel, what will he do to Castiel if he finds out we let him go?”

            “So he doesn’t find out!” Jesse snapped.

            “That’s taking a real chance all around,” Winchester pointed out.  “He’s apparently been watching you for weeks, and none of you had any idea.  Castiel didn’t even know!  Listen, this guy clearly knows enough about what he’s doing that he can put that manacle on Castiel in the first place.  I never knew it was possible to restrain an angel’s powers, did you?”  He nodded, seeing the downcast eyes and shifting around the room.  “And there’s one more thing to consider.  We already know this guy isn’t afraid to do whatever he thinks he has to do in the name of keeping humanity safe.  The fact that he gave me this key says he’s trusting us now.  But did anyone else catch the implied threat?  He said he’s using that manacle rather than taking Castiel into custody!  If Ketch decides we can’t be trusted, he’ll come in here like gangbusters, take our angel away completely, and leave Blake trapped in the other universe to die!”

            That silenced the room.

            “Castiel?” Adam asked.  “You’re not saying anything.  It’s your call, buddy.  If you want this thing off, as far as I’m concerned, it’s coming off and to hell with the consequences!  I won’t have you locked up against your will!”

            “I already told you I’m fine.”  Castiel was suddenly weary of the tension.  He pulled his arm away from Adam.  “If you’ll recall, I am the one who told you what this would do to me. And I chose to let Ketch lock it on. Don’t concern yourself with me.” He glanced over at the spell glyphs he’d drawn on the floor when he’d first arrived and frowned.  “What’s this about altering the spell?”

            “We’ll explain that later,” PJ told him, “after you tell us where you’ve been all this time, Castiel!  I know you’ve got your own business to attend to, but you were gone for a week with no explanation.  You scared me, cat!  You scared us all!  Now you’re saying you were detained, and the archangel Gabriel had to go to bat for you? What happened?  Are you in trouble?”

            Castiel grimaced.  He’d hoped that everything happening with Ketch would distract the group away from where he’d been.  Apparently, that wasn’t the case.  “I’ll be fine so long as I pass through the portal during the full moon.  Adam, why don’t you change out of that uniform? And all of you should get some sleep. It’s late.”

            Adam frowned, but he nodded.  “Alright. I get you don’t want to talk about it now.  But you need to tell us eventually, alright?”

            Castiel didn’t reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun shook his head and said, “Still not telling them, huh?” Really hates Mr. Ketch and probably more so because he's right about most of this. Was amused about how upset they got about Ketch doing anything to Cass, but they let the witches have their blood. Thinks they were dumb to not think about what would be involved with blood magic. Points out that Ketch’s reaction justified his earlier complaints. Was yelling at Cass not to let him put that thing on him. Is glad Ketch is taking care of the witches because he doesn’t trust them. Mr. Fun has announced that he absolutely hates Mr. Ketch, even more so than Crowley!
> 
> Trivia Time!
> 
> Here's one of my favorite scenes from the show - the introduction of Mr. Ketch!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A0Qba7JeE6k


	26. Being of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam takes Castiel to the Men of Letters safe house, but is upset that his angel remains bound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS!! This chapter features a lot of canon typical violence, complete with pictures!
> 
> I added a video link to the notes of the last chapter, if anyone's interested.

 

          Adam hated the silver manacle on Castiel’s wrist with every fiber of his being.  But he was especially bothered about it now.  Never before had the sight of someone peacefully sleeping in the back seat of a car upset him so much.  Castiel’s eyes were closed, his legs drawn up as he lay on his side.  His chest rose and fell with his slow, steady breaths.  At Adam’s suggestion, he’d climbed into the back where he could lie down more comfortably.  Seeing Castiel yawning just before they left, Adam had thought to grab a pillow.  Now his angel was resting his head on that pillow, one hand beneath his cheek, covered with his trench coat like a comforting blanket.  But as peaceful as Castiel appeared right now, the sight of him deep in slumber made Adam feel nauseated.  Just seeing his angel sleepily blinking his tired blue eyes had rocketed Adam’s anxiety.  For nearly four weeks, he’d never seen Castiel appear in need of rest.  And now, his powerful, invincible angel was sound asleep.

            For his part, Castiel had seemed largely unconcerned about his powers being locked away.  Shortly before they’d left, Adam had pulled him aside, desperate to know if Castiel really was alright.  But Castiel was actually smiling.  “I had my Grace stolen once and spent some time trapped in this human vessel,” he’d explained to an incredulous Adam.  “That was far worse than what this is doing to me.  For all intents and purposes, at that point I was a human man, with all the needs that a human man has.  So I understand the need for things like sleep.  I’ve experienced it before.  Part of me looks forward to experiencing it again.”

            Adam had sputtered.  “You’re looking forward to sleeping?!”

            Castiel had nodded pleasantly.  “Adam, I have lived for longer than you can imagine, and been fully alert for nearly all of it.  While I’ve grown accustomed to solitude every night while the humans around me slumber, many times the nights get quite long.  I’ve found that sleep serves a purpose, not only of refreshing the body, but also to bookmark time.”  He’d interrupted himself with a long, wide yawn, and chuckled.  “I will admit the timing is inconvenient, though.  My vessel had no need for sleep last night, but now, it seems to have caught up with me.  I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I’ll be able to maintain wakefulness until tonight.  Would it be permissible for me to nap in the vehicle on the ride to the Men of Letters safe house?”

            “Sure,” Adam had managed.  “I’ll set you up in the back seat.”

            “Thank you.”  Castiel had given him a shy smile.  “I’m very sorry about this, Adam.  But with so much of my Grace being choked off by the manacle, it’s not surprising that I’m feeling this need for sleep.  I just hope my sense of taste has been reduced, as well.”

            “Seriously?!” Adam had exclaimed.  “You wish you were even _more_ restricted?!”

            “While I was human, I very much enjoyed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Castiel reported happily.  “But while I’m at my full strength, while I can eat food, I can’t really enjoy it.  It all tastes like molecules!  If my powers had to be restricted to this level, I’d like to enjoy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches again.”  He’d looked at Adam with hopeful blue eyes, like a child asking for a Christmas gift. “Do you think that’s possible, Adam? Could I have some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”

            Naturally Adam had immediately headed to the kitchen. He’d quietly made his angel some sandwiches, and Castiel had been content ever since.  The angel seemed oblivious, or at least uncaring, in the face of everyone else’s concern.  But Adam was a wreck. 

            They’d set out that morning before sunrise and he’d been driving for hours.  By now, the sun was high in the sky.  Spotting the gas station he'd been instructed to find ahead, Adam pulled in, paid cash, and filled his tank.  Castiel stirred slightly, but his eyes never opened. Adam smiled at his sleeping angel through the window.  Then he headed back into the store.

            Adam dared to take the time to wash up a bit at the sink in the men’s room, splash water into his face, and change his shirt. He’d been covered in nervous sweat. Adam took a look in the mirror and thought about how this had happened, that he’d come to be here?  Everything about this situation was nerve wracking. They were on the run, trying to avoid police.  And meanwhile, the hate groups were still after him.  If anything, it was worse.  Winchester had warned Adam that at least one of the hate groups, the White Knights, had put an actual bounty out on the heads of both Adam and Castiel, once again citing “Justice for Blake” as the rationale.  Fucking Merl Brandon!  Blake’s former agent just wouldn’t give up.  But the idea of his angel asleep and helpless in the back seat of the car terrified Adam now.  If Adam and Castiel were captured by police, Castiel wouldn’t be able to get them out. And if they were attacked by bounty hunters, Castiel wouldn’t be able to fight much more than Adam himself could.  The whole situation was so dangerous Adam was sure he wouldn’t sleep a wink.  Part of him was irritated that Castiel could so peacefully nap.

            Of course, Adam had to admit that their lawyer was probably the worst of all.  The stress of being the one carrying the key to Castiel’s magical manacle must be immense. Adam knew Winchester was acutely aware that Adam, as well as several members of Maroon 5, had only reluctantly agreed to leave the manacle in place with Winchester in charge of the only key. Even those who’d been in agreement had been anxious.  Only Castiel had appeared comfortable with the decision.  But Winchester had been awake all night, hovering near their angel, unsettled green eyes watching Castiel’s every move.  Adam had noted the tense set of the lawyer’s jaw, the way he kept clenching and unclenching his hands, and the way his right hand hovered near the pocket where he’d placed the key.  No, Adam decided, he did not envy their lawyer.

            But then things got worse when they’d realized that Winchester couldn’t accompany Adam and Castiel to the safe house Ketch had provided for them to stay until the night of the full moon.  “Attorney-client privilege only extends so far,” Winchester had explained.  “I’m officially advising you to turn yourselves in.  Now that’s over with, I need to tell you that, while I can’t be compelled to reveal your location, I can be arrested myself if I’m found to be actively taking part in harboring a fugitive.  I can’t help you from behind bars!”

            “And I won’t risk you,” Castiel had declared. “Any of you!  Adam and I need to go to this safe house on our own, even if there’s no one there who can let me go.”

            “And once you’re there, you can’t have visitors,” Winchester added unhappily.  “I’ll keep in touch via cell phone.  B-but since everyone else can be compelled to testify and implicated, I need to be the only one who knows where you are.”

            That had met with a general uproar.  Until now, the lawyer had gotten along well with the band.  But now there was definite hostility.  Adam had promptly put his foot down.  “He’s doing his job!” he’d yelled.  “Back the fuck off of him!  Sam Winchester is the only one who understands what’s really going on, and he’s the only one I want defending us when this is all over.  Once Blake is home and Castiel is back with his Righteous Man, the whole case is gone and they can kiss my ass!”

            “Except the prison break,” Winchester pointed out. “That is still going to require a certain amount of explaining.  Whatever Ketch’s group is doing may actually make that worse.”

            Adam waved his hand.  “Whatever, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.  The point is, I need you.  I _need_ him, guys!” he called, addressing the rest of the band.  “We _all_ need him!  So would everyone please just back the fuck off and let the guy do his job?!”

            “Winchester’s cool,” Sam Farrar called, surprising Adam. “I worked enough with the guy to know.  So back off, guys, ok?  The man’s got enough shit to deal with!”  He looked at Adam.  “Adam, you do what you gotta do.  Just take care of our angel!”

            “I will,” Adam promised, hugging the youngest member of his band.  “I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect him.”

            That had made his angel cock his head and frown in confusion.  “I thought I was the bodyguard?” Castiel wondered.

            And that, Adam decided, was the problem all around. Castiel either didn’t understand or didn’t care that his powers had been blocked.  He was still trying to act as the bodyguard for Adam and the group. That was troubling.

            It was equally troubling how much Castiel’s powers had come to mean to Adam’s sense of personal safety.  Adam knew that, prior to Castiel, none of the men and women whose job it was to protect him had been bulletproof or inhumanly strong or had wings.  It had never concerned him before.  But then again, prior to Castiel, no one had ever actually shot at him with a rifle before, either, or beat and then attempted to gang rape him.  Adam suspected that had colored his perspective a bit.  He didn’t think he’d ever feel safe again after all that had happened.  A bit of therapy was probably in order.

            The one ray of hope Adam had was the knowledge that Blake would be coming home in a matter of days.  Once Adam had his arms around Blake, it might just take the Jaws of Life to pry them off.  What would Blake be like, after spending an entire month in Castiel’s terrible, dangerous world, running around with monster hunters?

            Granted, the idea of Blake as a badass monster hunter was sexy as fuck.  That might make for some interesting times later.

            Nope, he ordered himself, glaring at his own reflection.  Don’t think about that now!  The extensive conversation he planned to have with Castiel was going to be bad enough on Adam’s neglected libido.  Given how little Castiel seemed to know about everything else concerning human behavior, Adam suspected his angel didn’t know much about physical love, either.  He’d be going home to some hot times.  Dean seemed like a tough guy, but compared to Castiel, well, Adam was betting Dean was more likely to be on the receiving end of things.  Either way, Adam had plenty of tips to give their angel that might help his first experience be less awkward.  Of course, given the picture he’d seen of the way Castiel had kissed Adam’s alternate self, Castiel’s instincts seemed fairly spot-on.  Maybe he wouldn’t need as much teaching as Adam thought?  Ah well.  Adam would give him the benefit of Adam’s experience, and then send him running into the arms of his absurdly handsome Righteous Man.  Hopefully, Castiel wouldn’t crack the poor guy in half. That was something Adam was going to have to have a serious talk about with Castiel.  His angelic strength was immense.  Castiel would have to control it, even in the throes of passion.

            That was, of course, when his powers weren’t locked away by a stupid fucking manacle some assbag forced onto him because he was a “rogue angel.”

            Adam was scowling again as he returned to the car, and his mood hadn’t improved by the time he finally pulled into the safe house. He glanced back at Castiel, saw his angel was still sound asleep, and decided to let him rest a little longer. Adam was perfectly capable of bringing in the scant amount of luggage they had on his own.  Most of it was Adam’s anyway.  Castiel had taken a shower this morning, and come out happily talking about how much he’d enjoyed it.  But he’d once again been dressed in that blasted suit of his!  Adam had promptly declared it was dirty and insisted Castiel change.  His angel looked so much better when he wore his new casual clothes!  Then he’d made Castiel pack for this trip, so he’d have more clothes to change into.  But all his angel had packed was a few changes of clothes, the suit, and his jacket, choosing to wear his trench coat until he’d taken it off to cover himself in the car.  Well, it made sense.  The suit and trench coat, Adam had realized, were almost as much a part of Castiel as the rest of his vessel.  They were familiar to him, instinctual.  He could even “heal” them, repairing burns and other damage as he’d done that first night! That was why, when he’d returned from Heaven, he’d appeared back in his old clothes.  Adam knew that, aside from maintaining Castiel’s image, the gesture of changing clothes was pointless.  At least Castiel would never have to worry about laundry.  Every article of his clothing still smelled fresh, regardless of how long it had been worn.  Apparently, a side benefit of being an angel was a complete lack of sweat or B.O.  Lucky angels. Adam couldn’t stand himself if he didn’t shower at least daily.  But it certainly made packing easier. 

            Of course, with his powers restrained to the point where Castiel actually took showers, ate, and needed sleep, maybe that would change?  Fucking Ketch!

            Well, he had Castiel’s clothes at the house, just in case his angel wanted them.  Castiel had shown so little interest in clothing that Adam doubted it.  The only thing he seemed to care about was his trench coat.  He usually wore the clothes they’d picked out for him around the band, but Adam had quickly noticed that, when they were at home, Castiel had immediately donned the trench coat.  Somehow, his angel just didn’t seem complete without it.  Well, Adam had insisted that Castiel pack the leather jacket anyway, if for no other reason than Dean should really see how he looked in it.  The Righteous Man was in for a treat!

            Adam pulled the suitcases out of the trunk, managed to close it and the doors without waking his angel, and had started wheeling them towards the door when he paused.  For the first time, he was aware of how still everything was.  Adam frowned.  Ketch had told him that the safe house would have guards.  At the time, Adam had wondered how much of that was for the protection of himself and Castiel, and how much was to make sure they stayed put? But the guards were nowhere in sight. Odd.

            The hairs rose on the back of Adam’s neck. “Castiel?” he called.  He glanced back at the car in the driveway, but it seemed Castiel was still asleep inside.  He frowned. Adam had originally planned to let his angel continue to rest while he went in and got them situated into the house. But now, he thought he’d feel better if Castiel was awake.  Something wasn’t right.

            He hadn’t done more than turn and start back towards the car when he heard the sound of running feet.  Adam looked up and saw over a dozen men bolting from cover all around him, charging towards him.  “Castiel!” he yelled.  And a moment later, they were on him.  Adam went down swinging, but it was the attack in the prison all over again. Once more, Adam found himself outnumbered and held down while blows rained down on him.  This time, it was happening right out in the open in broad daylight.  The safe house was on a lonely country road, surrounded by empty farmland.  The closest neighbors were a good distance away, too far to hear anything or offer assistance.  Where were the guards?  Didn’t matter now.

            Fortunately, the beating was over quickly.  He was forced onto his knees in front of one of the men, his arms held fast, pulled back painfully behind him.  Adam looked up, his eyes widening in recognition. “Merl Brandon?  Oh, you son of a bitch!” he groaned, recognizing the leader of the White Knights.  “I should have known!”

            Brandon was grinning down at Adam, playing with a long, wicked-looking hunting knife.  “Nice to see you on your knees where you belong, Levine,” he called.  “You never were much more than an overpaid tattooed whore! Blake should have thrown your filthy ass out on the street long ago!”

            Adam grew still, eyeing the knife.  “What do you want?”

            “Did you really think,” Brandon began, “that you could corrupt and then kill a good clean man like Blake, drag him down into your filthy lifestyle and then murder him, and get away with it?!”

            “Oh, shit, not this again!” Adam groaned.  “Dude, I have way bigger concerns right now than you! Why the hell are you assholes so threatened by us?!”

            Brandon shrugged.  “I dunno, maybe because you sick perverts are corrupting the institute of marriage and the sanctity of the family?”

            “Loving another man is not a threat to you, or the institution of marriage, or anything else in your life!” Adam spat.  “I barely even know you, except that you used to be Blake’s agent, you’re a homophobic asshole, and now you run a hate group!  You fuckers can spout all the shit you want, Brandon, I don’t care.  I have nothing against you!  And I did _not_ murder my husband!  He’s perfectly fine, and in a couple more days, I’ll be able to prove it!”

            “Likely story, but you and your little boy toy are going back to Hell where you belong!”  The knife appeared before Adam’s face, drawing his focus.  “It’s time Blake finally got some justice!”

            Adam rolled his eyes.  “Oh for fuck’s sake, Brandon!  Would you just admit that the real reason you hate me is because you’re secretly jealous Blake picked me over you?!”

            Adam’s head was rocked by a ringing slap. “Enough of your lies!” Brandon yelled. “We’re here to do God’s good work!”

            “Hey, assbutt!”

            Adam looked back.  To his dismay, Castiel had been dragged out of the car and was being held down just as Adam was.  The angel was visibly struggling.  But his strength wasn’t nearly what it should be.  Above the hands that gripped his arm, the silver manacle still gleamed at his wrist.  “Leave Adam alone!” Castiel yelled.  “You’ve got it all wrong!  Your God does not approve of murdering him for loving his husband!”

            That got some incredulous looks.  “You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about! We’re following the commands of God Himself,” Brandon declared.

            “I have it on very good authority that God does not care about two consenting adult men loving each other,” Castiel retorted. “Are you claiming to be religious? Then go and do something positive with your beliefs!  The God you claim to follow is a God of love!  The last thing he wants is for you to go around killing someone for loving as God first loved him!”

            “Blasphemy!” Brandon spat.  Furious, he stormed over to the helpless angel, drew back, and harshly backhanded Castiel across the face.  Castiel gave a small grunt of pain.  To Adam’s horror, the blow had split his lip.  He’d been hurt!  Castiel, his angel, was _bleeding!_

            And still, the angel wouldn’t back down. “When the rules you claim to live by were handed down, the ultimate crime against your fellow man was murder! How can you claim to be doing God’s work when you’re here with murder on your minds?” he challenged.

            This time, Brandon punched him.  Adam yelled and struggled, hearing his angel cry out, seeing his head snap back from the force of the blow.  And yet Castiel wouldn’t stop.  “You, all of you, are here to commit a far greater sin against God and your fellow man than anything you accuse us of!  What will you do?”  Another blow, another cry of pain.  “Will murdering Adam bring back Blake, miraculously ‘cleansed’ of this terrible sin of love you can’t abide?”  Another blow.  “Will spilling our blood do any more than create martyrs for the very cause you claim to stand against?”  Yet another blow.  “Will what you do today do anything, anything at all, besides make you all murderers and criminals, hated and despised by all?”

            “We’re heroes!” Brandon bellowed, once again striking the helpless angel.  By now, his eyes were bulging and spittle flew from his lips.  “We are holy warriors of God!”

            Castiel’s face was a mass of swollen, discolored, bleeding flesh.  He turned his face to the side and spat blood.  But then he turned back and sneered up at the man.  “You?” he spat.  “Know nothing about warriors of God!”

            Brandon gave a bestial snarl of rage.  He pulled back his fist, bracing for yet another blow.

            “Stop!” Adam screamed.  “Fucking stop!  For the love of God, please stop!  Please!”

            That got Brandon’s attention.  “For the love of God?” he repeated, incredulous. Suddenly releasing Castiel, he stormed back over to Adam.  He grabbed Adam’s chin and pointed the knife at him with a shaking hand.  “You don’t know a thing about it!”

            “And is this the way to teach him?”  Castiel again.  “Is this how one shows the love of God?!”

            Brandon’s attention once more returned to Castiel. His face darkened as he pointed the knife threateningly at the angel.  “Boy, I have had just about all I can take of your mouth!  If you don’t…”

            “If Adam is a sinner as you claim, then he needs the love of God more than anyone!” Castiel yelled.  “Where, in any religious text you have, have you ever read that one shows the love of God by slicing a man’s throat?!”

            Why, oh why wouldn’t Castiel just shut up?! Brandon was so furious he was shaking in rage.  He’d already beaten Castiel to a pulp.  Now the men holding Castiel were kicking him, heavy blows landing on his ribs and kidneys, making him grimace and writhe in pain.  But the angel simply would not be silent.  “You were commanded to go forth and spread the message of God’s love, not to murder anyone whose beliefs don’t match your own!”

            “Shut up!” Brandon bellowed.  “We stand on the side of righteousness!”

            And now, Castiel actually laughed.  “The _last_ thing you are is a Righteous Man!”

            “Enough, Castiel!” Adam yelled.  “Everyone, please, just calm down!  Please!  Don’t hurt us.  We can talk about this, we can…  For fuck’s sake, _stop!_ ” he roared, seeing one of the men with Castiel kick the angel again.  Castiel writhed in pain, and Adam’s heart skipped a beat in fear.  “You’re killing him, you son of a bitch!  Leave him alone!”  Adam glared at Brandon, his fists clenched.  “Come on, Brandon, we both know what this is really about!  If you really want to act like a man, then be a fucking man!  Leave Castiel out of this!  Let me go, and we’ll settle this man to man!  Come on, you piece of shit!”  Adam strained towards Brandon.  “Just you and me!  Let me show you why Blake picked me over you!”

            Brandon had hold of Adam’s chin again. “Everything that comes out of your mouth is a filthy lie,” he hissed. 

            “Then let’s see you shut me up!” Adam challenged, glaring up at him.  “You want someone to pound on?  Here I am, motherfucker!  Let’s dance! Or don’t you have the balls to stand toe to toe with me?  What’s the matter, Brandon?  You scared a fairy like me is gonna kick your ass?!”

            “I am so sick of you and your mouth!” Brandon spat. “But I know how to shut you up for good!”  A smile that chilled Adam curled Brandon’s lips.  He beckoned to his men.  “Bring that son of a bitch up here!  Make sure he gets a good look while I slit his boyfriend’s throat!”

            “You’ll not hurt him!” Castiel roared.  He struggled as he was dragged forward, forced back down to his knees just across from Adam.  “Nothing you have said here makes any sense, and yet you are persisting despite all evidence to the contrary?!  Adam is faultless in this!  He’s being persecuted for doing nothing wrong!  He even went to prison, was beaten and nearly raped rather than betray me! And now he’s offered to sacrifice himself on my behalf?!  The man you’re threatening is righteous!  He’s _righteous!_ ”  The angel fought frantically, straining to reach Brandon.  “You will not harm him!  I am his bodyguard, and I’ll not allow it!  Release us!”

            That brought a laugh from the men.  Grinning, their leader gestured with his knife towards Castiel.  “Your lover over there says he’s your bodyguard and he won’t allow it,” he told Adam. “You think I should be worried?”

            Adam glanced frantically at Castiel.  The blue eyes were locked on the man threatening Adam. But Adam’s eyes were immediately drawn to the silver manacle.  Visible above where Castiel’s arm was being held, the manacle had changed from silver to glowing red.  Hope suddenly bloomed in Adam’s heart.  “Y-yeah,” he said.  “I think maybe you should be!”

            “This is your final warning,” Castiel called. A welcome blue-white light was starting to glow, the immortal eyes of the angel shining through at last. “Release us!  Now!”

            Brandon never looked back.  He made a show of tapping the tip of his knife against his chin, pretending to think it over as he looked down at Adam.  “Hmm, let me think, um, no?”  Laughter from the group.  Then he reached down, grabbing a fistful of Adam’s hair as he readied his knife.

            “Adam, close your eyes!” Castiel ordered. “Now!”

            Adam immediately squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Not a moment too soon.  The light was blinding.  It was brighter than the sun, so bright it shone even through Adam’s eyelids.  Through his closed eyes, he could almost see a colossal figure made entirely of light. And all around him, screams rose. Adam could smell burning flesh. The hands that clutched at him let go, and Adam, terrified, threw his arms over his face.  Even then, he could still see the light.  But seconds after it had begun, the screams stopped, and the light vanished.

            Then a gentle hand rested on Adam’s shoulder. “It’s over,” Castiel’s gravely voice called.  “You can open your eyes.”

            Adam cautiously lowered his arms and opened his eyes.  He stood up, looking around him in a daze.  Scattered on the ground all around him were dead bodies.  Merl Brandon and his men were frozen in death with their mouths opened in silent screams, hands clawed and raised stiffly in mute supplication. But worst of all were the eyes. Just as it had been with one of the inmates at the prison who’d attacked Adam, all seven men now had black, smoking craters where their eyes once were.  Adam stared.  “W-what did you do?!”

            “I showed them my true form.”  Castiel helped Adam to his feet, steadied him, and healed him with a touch.  “Very few humans can see me like that and survive,” he explained, “and none of these qualify.  It’s alright, Adam.  You’re safe now.”

            Safe?  Adam was shaking uncontrollably, even as the familiar calm radiated from Castiel’s touch. Adam glanced up at Castiel, seeing his fully healed face.  He stared at the angel’s unadorned arm.  Then he looked over to where Castiel had been held on the ground and saw what appeared to be a hunk of warped, melted silver metal.  “How?” Adam squeaked.  “How did you get out of that thing?  I thought it cut you off from your powers!”

            “It did,” Castiel admitted.  “But the eyes of Heaven are on me now, Adam, and will remain so until I return to my own world.  Come inside.”

            “The eyes of…?”  Adam glowered at him.  “That’s where you’ve been all this time!  You went to Heaven, and you got help from the other angels!  And when you were saying all that shit that pissed Brandon off, you were actually talking to _them!_  You just talked the other angels into helping us!”  Adam laughed, sounding a little insane even to his own ears.  “Oh, you shithead, that’s why you didn’t care that Ketch put that stupid thing on you!  You knew you could get out of it any time you wanted!”

            “That isn’t true.  I couldn’t get out of it, not under my own power.  That manacle was strong enough to hold any single angel.”

            “But you weren’t a single angel!” Adam accused. “You knew you’d have help!”  He sucked in his breath.  “And I think I know from who!  That’s why you yelled about me being righteous, isn’t it?  You got help...  From yourself!”

            Castiel hesitated.  “Well, I knew that my brothers here were watching me, and you’re right, I was speaking primarily to my alternate self.  I figured…  I mean, I thought we’d be alright.”  He shrugged. “Maybe?”

            Adam stared at him.  “Maybe?  You thought we’d be alright, _maybe?_  You didn’t know for sure if the other angels would rescue us or not?!”

            Castiel rubbed at the back of his neck.  “I weighed the odds for what would happen if we had a serious need, and decided they were fair in favor of our survival.”

            “Fair in favor of…!”  Adam closed his eyes and breathed through his nose.  Only Castiel!  Adam gave some thought to trying to find out if it was possible to strangle an angel.  But in the end, he couldn’t keep from chuckling, shaking his head as he grinned at his abashed angel.  “Alright, Castiel.  Bottom line, we’re alive, they’re dead, we’re surrounded by dead bodies with their fucking _eyes_ burned out, and this is supposed to be a safe house!  Do you have any idea what happened?”

            “We were betrayed,” Castiel explained.  He pointed at one of the bodies.  “That man is a hunter, and was assigned here as one of the guards.  He alerted Brandon and his group.  They tricked the other guards and came here to ambush us.”

            Adam frowned.  “How do you know that?”

            “The manacle couldn’t fully restrain all of my senses, especially with tactile contact.  So I read their minds.  Adam, please come into the house?”

            That stopped Adam in his tracks.  “You what?  You can read minds?!”

            Castiel sighed.  “How else do you think I heard you calling me when you were in danger? Now please, come into the house!”

            Adam allowed himself to be drawn towards the house, but he wasn’t done yet.  “So this whole time, you could read my mind?”

            “Yes, I could,” Castiel replied patiently. “And I generally chose not to. Humans rarely mean all the things they think.  Most humans will think of things they would never say or do, which makes what I can hear of their thoughts extremely unreliable.  I listen when I need to, otherwise I simply tune it out much as you tune out extra noise you can hear.”

            Adam considered this.  “You said you generally chose not to,” he pointed out.  “So you did read my mind!  What the hell did you see?!”

            “It was highly pornographic.”

            Adam blushed to his toes.  Was Castiel serious?  The angel’s face betrayed nothing.  The thought of what, exactly, Castiel might have seen kept Adam quiet long enough for Castiel to push him into the safe house and slam the door.

            Then Castiel abruptly took his arms, and the world seemed to subtly shift.  The angel sighed in relief.  “Finally! This house is warded.  The hosts of Heaven can’t see or hear us here, and I just cloaked us from any cameras or listening devices.  We can talk now.”

            Adam stilled, eyeing the angel. “…Castiel?  What the fuck, dude?  I get why you don’t want to talk in front of cameras or microphones, but you want to hide from the angels, too?  Didn’t they just save our lives?”

            “Sort of, yes, but listen to me, Adam.  We won’t have much time, and I have a lot to tell you.  I have something to ask of you, something important.  And you are the only one who can do it!”

            “Um, ok, why is that?”

            “Because you are one of the two humans I’m in frequent contact with who is capable of holding me!  Your body, Adam, is one of the precious few that can contain the power of an angel.  And I’m sorry, but I may need it!”

            Adam blinked.  “...Uh, what?  Wait, you mean you want to make me, like, a vessel, like Jimmy Novak?  Dude, you said you’d never do that again!”

            “I did, and I meant it,” Castiel explained patiently.  “That’s why I cannot, I will not, ask Sam Winchester.  I will not leave another child without a father!  I don’t want to ask you either, Adam, but I must.  What I’m asking, it’s something that I would never ask unless I saw absolutely no other choice!”

            “But why would you need to jump into me?!”

            “Because if anything goes wrong, and I don’t get to go back to my world when we open this portal?  I may never be permitted to leave this universe!”

            Adam’s head was spinning.  “What?  _What?!_   Castiel, what the actual fuck is going on?!”

            “Listen to me very carefully, and I’ll tell you.”

            Adam listened.  When Castiel finished speaking, they were both silent for a time while Adam paced around, thinking over everything he’d just learned.  Adam’s breathing was fast.  His heart was pounding, but eventually, he nodded. “Alright.  I’ll help you.”

            “Reconsider,” Castiel urged.  “Hopefully, everything will go off without a hitch and we’ll all go back to where we belong.  But if it doesn’t…?  Adam, you’d be taking a terrible risk, and you’ll never be the same again!”  He clutched Adam’s arm, his blue eyes anguished. “You know what happened to Jimmy Novak! If you say yes to this, you could lose everything you are!”

            “I know,” Adam said calmly.  “And the answer is still yes.  I’ll do it.  After all you’ve done for me, buddy?  I owe you that much.”

            Castiel’s eyes closed, his head dropped.  “You truly are a Righteous Man,” he whispered.

            Adam forced a smile.  “Hey, it’s Plan B anyway,” he reminded.  “We’ll get this portal opened and get everyone back to where they belong.  Blake and Dean don’t even have to know we even considered it, right?”

            “I suppose.”  Castiel looked up and gave Adam a weak smile.  “Thank you, Adam.”

            Adam smiled back.  “No problem, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun just loved Castiel’s well thought-out and highly organized plan. “Maybe?” Also loved the “assbutt” part. Thought it was cool he went full angel on the homophobic douche nozzles. Says he has no comments yet about whatever is going on with Cass and the angels. “Need more input.” But is very worried about whatever Adam just agreed to!


	27. Nothing Lasts Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Castiel, wanted and on the run, camp out until the full moon. Maroon 5, Sam Winchester, and Mr. Ketch will meet them at the park, where they'll cast their spell to open the portal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Adam sings here is "Nothing Lasts Forever" by Maroon 5  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ErDlql5dInc
> 
> It's been quite an adventure, but here we are at the last fateful full moon.

            In the end, Adam and Castiel had simply not called Ketch to tell him what had happened.  They had no way to know who else in Ketch’s organization might be compromised.  Adam had a short phone call with Sam Winchester explaining what had happened while Castiel flew off to the ranch and got their camping equipment.  Adam had finished his call, turned around, and the entire camp was completely set up, right down to a roaring fire and a neat stack of firewood. Taking an angel along when going camping was apparently an advantage.

            But that was the last time Adam was comfortable. The skies opened up, unleashing a downpour of cold rain.  The deluge eventually tapered off into a light rain that waxed and waned all night and throughout the rest of the time they were camping.  Everything was damp, it was cold, it was grey, and Adam was bored, scared, worried, cranky and miserable.  Part of him started to wonder if the hosts of Heaven were somehow punishing him for hiding out in the warded safe house, plotting against them.

            For his part, Castiel was quiet, solemn, and watchful. The angel never seemed bothered by the weather, standing in his long trench coat or roaming around the camp, not seeming to care if he was soaked by the non-stop rain.  He’d come into the screen tent to spend time with Adam, but never went into the tent.  Day or night, the serious blue eyes kept watch.  And at least once, Adam was certain that Castiel fought.  He’d heard a commotion in the middle of the night, opened his eyes to a bright flash, and then nothing.  But Castiel said nothing about it, and he could find no trace of any sign of a struggle.  To Adam’s mortal eyes, it appeared as if nothing at all had disturbed them in the night. Had he dreamed it?  No way to know.  But once again, Adam was grateful for the watchful presence of his angel.

****

            Adam took advantage of their isolation to have a long, detailed talk with his angel about the finer points of sex between two men. Castiel had listened with a serious expression, asking the occasional question, but otherwise not saying much. Then he’d nodded.  “Thank you,” he said.  “I feel as if I can better provide for a pleasurable experience with your advice.”

            “Hey, don’t mention it, buddy.”  Adam was pleased with himself.  Dean Winchester had no idea what was coming.  Adam found that extremely pleasing.

            Adam paused, glancing towards the sky.  The rain had finally tapered off, and the setting sun was actually peeking through the clouds.  He took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air.  “So, tonight’s the night, huh?  Full moon, everyone back to their corners?”

            “That’s correct.  After tonight, if all goes well, you’ll likely never be troubled by any of this again.”

            And he’d never see Castiel again.  That made Adam wince.  As much as he was looking forward to seeing Blake, it had occurred to Adam that, in a few hours, his angel would be gone forever.  His heart ached.  He longed for Blake, and knew Castiel longed just as much for Dean  And yet, some selfish part of Adam secretly wished there was some way that they could all somehow be together.  _“It is so easy to see, dysfunction between you and me.  We must free up these tired souls before the sadness kills us both!  I tried and tried to let you know I love you, but I'm letting go.  It may not last, but I don't know, I just don't know.”_

            It wasn’t until Castiel turned and stared at Adam, cocking his head in that manner he had when he seemed puzzled about something, that Adam realized he’d started singing aloud.  Adam grinned and kept singing.  _“If you don't know, then you can't care, and you show up, but you're not there.  But I'm waiting and you want to, still afraid that I will desert you. Everyday with every worthless word we get more far away!  The distance between us makes it so hard to stay!  But nothing lasts forever, but be honest, babe!  It hurts, but it may be the only way.”_   He shrugged.  “Doesn’t quite match up with us right now, but in a way, it kind of does.  What we’re doing tomorrow, it’s for the best all around. But it still feels like I’m losing something, you know?”

            “I think so.  We’ll all be where we belong, and with who we belong with.  But I’ll never forget you, Adam, or the band.”  Castiel was smiling now.  He always seemed to enjoy Adam’s songs.  One more thing he’d miss about his angel.

            Adam reached over and took the angel’s hand. “I love you, Castiel,” he said simply. “And I’m going to miss you one hell of a lot!  This has been the adventure of a lifetime, and as much as I’m glad it’s over, there’s a part of me that’s going to be sorry it comes to an end.  My life is just going to seem so ordinary after all this!”

            Castiel smiled.  “I’ll miss you too, Adam, but I think you’re exaggerating.  The life of a rock star is ordinary now?”

            “Compared to the life of an angel, yes!”

            His angel’s smile faded.  “I’m sorry I had to ask what I asked of you, Adam.  I had no right to put the burdens of the angels on your shoulders.  All you’ve ever done is care for me, since the day you found me and took me home.  I feel as though I’ve repaid your kindness poorly!”

            Adam stared at him.  “You’re shitting me, right?  Castiel, I wouldn’t even be _alive_ today if it wasn’t for you!  I got shot at, remember?  What we went through together, even the worst parts of it?  Were worth it because I got to know you!  I wish Blake could have had the chance to really meet you, buddy. The two of you would have had some real good times!”  He hesitated. “And even if…  Even if the worst happens, and we have to do what we discussed? I’m scared shitless, I won’t lie. But my answer’s still yes.  You saved my life, helped me when no one else could.  Now it’s my turn to help you!”

            Castiel’s shoulders were slumped, his eyes fixed on the ground.  “I wish I hadn’t had to ask you.  It’s not fair to you, Adam!  If there had been another choice…?”

            “There isn’t, ok?  Hey, look at me!”  When Castiel looked up, Adam spread his hands.  “No one else has benefited as much from your presence as I have.  Yeah, I ended up going to prison and everything else that happened, but you saved me every time, Castiel!  And that first asshole with the gun?  He would have come after me even if I’d never met you! Chances are that sooner or later, Merl Brandon would have come for me, too.  Now thanks to you, I never have to worry about that bastard again!”  Castiel didn’t need to know what Sam Winchester had told him, that the police were looking to arrest Castiel for the murder of Brandon and his men, as well as the jailbreak and the deaths at the prison. The FBI could hardly chase their newest “serial murderer” through an interdimensional portal, and human law enforcement would be the least of his angel’s troubles if this didn’t work. “I’ll do what you asked me to do,” he vowed.  “I’m honored that you believe enough in me to ask.  I just hope I have the strength, the guts, to pull it off!  You’re taking one hell of a risk!”

            “We both are.”

            “Yeah, we are,” Adam admitted.  “But it’s Plan B anyway.  Plan A’s our best bet!”

            “If nothing else, we should be able to get your husband back,” Castiel offered.  “Once Blake is through, then I’ll try to pass through myself.  But Blake will be safe, Adam.  The bond that the two of you have is strong.  You’ll be able to pull him through.  If Dean and I can’t…?”

            “No!” Adam ordered.  He shook his finger in the angel’s face.  “Don’t even think like that, Castiel.  When we do this, you can’t have any doubt!  You just reach out for your Righteous Man with all your heart! Believe in him, ok?  Because I believe in Blake!  Blake’s had all month to get through to Dean, and if Dean’s even half the man you think he is, he won’t let you down!  Reach for him, and he’ll reach back!  Then all we have to worry about is if this Crowley fucker’s really coming through.  But Ketch is ready to deal with your King of Hell, right?  He’ll be there, waiting to give Crowley a big surprise!”

            “I never thought the day would come when I’d be glad for the presence of Mr. Ketch,” Castiel grumbled.

            Adam cocked an eyebrow.  “You know something I don’t?”

            “I know him in my world,” Castiel admitted. “But in this one, it likely all goes back to my mistake that night you switched bodies.  One moment of weakness…?”  He shook his head.  “You’re right, though, Adam.  Ketch’s mind is shielded to me, as are most hunters.  I can’t easily read his thoughts, but from what I’ve seen, he’s very much like he is in my world.  The only thing he cares about is destroying monsters.  Therefore, I have every reason to believe he’ll be completely invested in keeping the King of Hell contained from the moment he steps foot through that portal.  By the same token, he’ll want to see me pass through it and out of this world, just to get rid of me!”  He pinched his lips.  “That’s the other reason I want Blake to come through first.  I don’t trust that Mr. Ketch won’t seal the portal as soon as I’m through.  Rogue angel, remember?”

            “Yeah, I remember,” Adam grumbled.  “You don’t have many allies in this reality, Castiel.”

            “I don’t have many in my own, either,” Castiel pointed out.  “But here, I have you.  Right now, that’s enough.”

            After that, there wasn’t much left to say. Adam hovered near his angel, wanting to spend as much time with Castiel as he possibly could while he was still there. The two sat together, quietly watching as the sky gradually darkened with the setting sun.  And before Adam knew it, it was time for one final ride on his angel’s wings.

            Suddenly, Adam was in the park where Blake had proposed, staring into the anxious faces of his friends.

            Shouts, hugs, even a few tears.  Winchester hung back for a moment before Adam dragged him into the fray.  Even the presence of a scowling Ketch did little to dampen the joyous welcome.

            “We’re getting you back just in time to lose you, Castiel,” PJ noted.  The keyboardist’s eyes were damp.  “I wish I’d have had more time to talk to you!”

            Castiel smiled.  “You’ve done nothing wrong by not following in your father’s footsteps. Your talents lay in other paths, PJ. Follow your heart, not your father’s hopes for you.”

            PJ’s jaw dropped.  Tears rose in his eyes, and he choked back a sob.  Then he pulled their angel into a crushing hug.  Adam smiled.  Suddenly, he felt less irritable about Castiel choosing not to share his ability to read minds.  Now he was able to assure Mickey that he wasn’t a “bad person” for his moment of weakness resulting in his drug bust, Jesse that he wasn’t a failure for dropping out of college, James that he wasn’t at fault for the problems of his previous band, Matt that he could still be a good father to his children despite being on the road so much, and Sam Farrar that he wasn’t wasting his life, regardless of what a relative had apparently told him.  Adam hadn’t been aware of that one.

            But when their angel had turned to Winchester, the lawyer held up his hand.  “It’s alright,” he called.  “You don’t have to say anything, Castiel.  I already know.  I’ve got some penance to do here, and I’ll start with getting Adam out of the mess he’s in right now.”  His green eyes moved to Ketch and turned cool.  “I’ll be expecting some help with that!”

            “My organization will cooperate to a point,” was all Ketch would say. He seemed more interested in checking the lasers he’d brought with him.  “Of course, considering the cooperation I’ve had so far from your client, I don’t suppose that I’ll have much more from this point out!”

          The lawyer rolled his eyes.

            Sam Farrar gestured them forward and pointed at the ground.  “Winchester and I already did all the glyph work,” he announced.  “Castiel, there’s a big jumble of glyphs here that you’ll have to be careful when you step into.”

            “You’re serving as both a link and a power source,” Winchester explained.  “So both sets of glyphs need to point at you.”

            “Understood.”

            “Adam, you’ll be here, in this circle of glyphs.” Farrar brushed his dark hair out of his eyes with a shaking hand.  “We’ve checked and double-checked everything, had Ketch look it over.  As far as we can tell, this will work.  But it’s dangerous, for all four of you guys!  If anything goes wrong, God only knows what could happen.”

            “Then we don’t let anything go wrong.”  Adam carefully stepped into the glyphs.  “How much longer?”

            That got a laugh from his friends.  “Calm down, Adam, you’ve still got twenty minutes!”

            Twenty minutes.  In twenty minutes, he would see Blake.  Blake would be here in twenty minutes.

            It was the twenty longest minutes of his life. Adam, worried about accidentally messing up the glyphs, was afraid to step back out and afraid to move around too much.  And his nerves had his ADHD going into high gear.  By the time Castiel finally took his place, ready to start, Adam was practically running in place.  As soon as their angel was in reach, Adam made a grab for him and immediately felt the relief.  Much better. One last dose of angel valium for the road.  He'd miss that for sure, but not nearly as much as he’d missed Blake.  Adam’s heart was pounding in anticipation.

            Meanwhile, his angel was maddeningly calm.  “Perhaps I should change?” Castiel was wondering, looking down at his clothing.  He was wearing a fresh set of the clothing that the band had obtained for him, covered by his trench coat.  “This isn’t what my friends will be expecting.”

            “Dude, that’s the point!”

            “Where’s your leather jacket?”

            “Carry your trench coat, wear the jacket!”

            “Seriously, cat, your Righteous Man will love the new look!”

            Castiel looked unconvinced, but nodded.  He pulled off his trench coat, revealing that, underneath, he already wearing the leather jacket.

            Adam stared.  “Castiel, you’re a menace to fashion experts everywhere!”

            Castiel tilted his head to one side, looking confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean?”

            “Never mind.”  Adam chuckled and shook his head.  “Just put the trench coat back on, ok?”

            Castiel shrugged and pulled his coat back on.

            Adam’s eyes went to Ketch.

            Ketch had offered to cast the spell, something Adam was happy to take him up on.  He’d remembered what the two witches had said, about how only an experienced spellcaster should cast this spell.  Discounting his own experience casting the spell on Winchester, Ketch was the only one other than Castiel with spellcasting experience.  Castiel would already be doing double-duty, powering the spell and linking up with Dean on the other side, and Adam would need to focus on Blake.  Adam still wasn’t sure he trusted the Englishman.  But Ketch was the best choice to cast the spell.

            Ketch was still playing with his lasers. Activating them created something Ketch referred to as a “devil’s trap” sigil.  The hunter seemed certain they would be enough to trap the King of Hell when he came through the portal.  Adam had looked from the lasers, which had three back-ups and could be activated at the touch of a button, to the painstaking drawings that the two Sams had labored over, and secretly hoped the hunter knew what he was doing.  But Ketch, apparently satisfied with the state of his devil’s traps, was looking at Castiel.  “It’s time.  Ready?”

            “Ready.”

            “You’ll both need to actively reach out for your partners on the other side,” Ketch instructed.  “Mr. Levine, you’ll be the main anchor here, and we have no way to know what sort of state their anchor will be in on the other side.  Therefore, the primary responsibility for maintaining this portal must fall to you.  Do whatever you must in order to maintain that link with your husband!  Lose it, and not only will this portal collapse, but you could do significant damage to all four of you, ranging from short-term memory loss to loss of consciousness to long-term brain damage!  So do try to keep it together?”

            Adam swallowed.  “Right.”

            “And remember, Levine, you need to focus on drawing your partner to you, while Castiel needs to allow himself to be drawn through to whomever he’s linking with,” Ketch reminded.  “It’s the only way to be certain this goes both ways.  Levine, once the actual passing through starts, you’ll need to stay in place and stay focused.  No matter how much you’ll likely want to run to your husband, you _must_ stay where you are!  If at least one of the two anchors doesn’t remain in place, the portal will quite quickly collapse.  Understood?”

            “Got it.”

            “Steady on, then, here we go!”

            As Ketch began to cast the spell, Castiel’s eyes blazed.  He brought up a glowing hand, powering the spell.

            Adam brought up his left hand and held it against his chest, letting the fingers of his right hand trace the wedding band there. He’d always been able to concentrate best when he had a tangible focus.  Adam closed his eyes and let his memories of Blake fill his mind.  Blue eyes.  Dimpled smiles.  Long legs. The way Blake laughed, the way he sang. “ _Blake!”_

_“Adam!”_

            Adam’s eyes snapped open.  Ahead of him, he could see a waving, growing light.  And through that light, Adam could feel him. Blake was there, he was _right there,_ Adam could almost reach out and touch him!  Adam gave a little cry and had to firmly hold himself in check to keep from running forward. Focus.  He was the only one who could bring Blake home.  He wasn’t about to fail now!  “ _Come here, Big Country.  Come home!  I miss you so much!”_

_“I’m coming, Rockstar!  Y’all just gotta open the door a little more, baby!  Ya know I’m not a scrawny little runt like you!”_

            Adam laughed.  Ahead of him, the light was spreading, turning into a wide oval.  _“Bring that fine country ass home, Blake!  You’ve been away from me for too long!”_

__

_“No shit!  You would not believe what I have been through!”_

_“Oh, I think maybe I can tell you a few stories myself!”_

_“I’ll bet.  Ok, ready or not, here I come!”_

            There.  The shadowy figure of a man was coming through the light.  Cowboy boots stepped out onto the ground.  Adam’s eyes locked with those familiar sky blues, feeling the welcoming smile spreading on his face, matching the one on Blake’s.  It was Blake, Blake was here, Blake was finally home!  His big man looked a bit drawn, but his eyes were bright and shining as he looked back at Adam.  And for some reason, he appeared to be carrying a guitar case.  He was here, patiently waiting for the spell to be finished, ready to go to Adam.  And best of all, the link was still with them.  Adam could feel it, the love the two of them shared, traveling back and forth between them.  Of course. Adam had to maintain it until this was over.  He just hadn’t expected it to feel this good, for the love in Blake’s eyes to translate so strongly into this almost tangible pure, steadfast form.

            _You are a part of me.  Soulmates. Not even another reality can separate us!_

            Adam choked back a sob, feeling the tension drain out of him, and breathed a sigh of relief.

            And that was when Castiel gasped.  “Dean?!  _Dean!”_

            Adam looked over in alarm.  Castiel had started walking towards the portal, moving up next to Adam.  But now he was somehow frozen, his body doubled over and trembling with effort in mid-stride. His straining face was flushed and furious.  Adam instinctively grabbed at his angel.  “What is it? What’s wrong?!”

            Several things happened at once.  Adam felt a slight vibration where he touched Castiel. Suddenly, he found himself frozen in place.  Try as he might, he couldn’t move.  And then Castiel screamed.  His body blazed with light, and Adam felt something like a powerful electric shock. Adam screamed.  Locked in place, he had a fleeting moment to look back at Blake, saw his husband’s eyes widen in pain, saw Blake’s hands reach up to cradle his head.

            The light caught Adam, washed out everything else. And a moment later, he was rocketing through space.  He couldn’t feel his body.  All he could feel was the link he still had with Blake being stretched and strained.  The pain was enormous, tearing him apart.  He tried to scream, but didn’t have a mouth.  He felt like a blazing comet, with a tail that stretched back to Blake, and Blake, his Big Country was being _dragged,_ Blake was caught in the tail of that comet and helplessly tumbling along behind him!  No. Adam tried to stop himself, tried to free Blake.  But something held on, stubbornly clinging to the dual links, keeping them in place.  _No! I’ll kill him!  I’m dragging him, and I don’t know how to stop!_

            Something stirred.  A set of massive hands suddenly grabbed hold of the links and tore them apart.

            And just like that, his magical, wonderful, horrible connection to Blake was gone.

            Impact.  He sensed rather than felt it.  He still didn’t seem to have a body, lost in the white light.  But now the light faded, and with it sensation returned. Adam’s head was spinning, throbbing.

            Adam blinked open his eyes.  He was lying in a crater surrounded by smoke, steam, and bits of debris.  Adam looked down and realized he was lying on top of Castiel, his angel’s arms wrapped protectively around him.  For a moment, Adam mused that he’d just ended up exactly as he’d started, in the middle of a crater with Castiel.  And then the horror of what had just happened hit.  “Castiel!” he exclaimed, rolling off of his angel.  “You’re still here?  What happened?!”

            Castiel didn’t answer.  It seemed clear that he’d protected Adam, taking the brunt of the impact, and had been hurt because of it.  Now his eyes were closed, his body still.  Adam fought back panic.  Check a pulse.  Did angels have a pulse?  Should he start CPR?  He pulled out his phone, thinking to call 911, and then realized how foolish that was. Adam shook his head, put his phone away, and gently tapped the angel’s cheeks.  “Castiel!” he called.  “Please wake up?  I have no idea what to do!”

            Castiel groaned.  The blue eyes fluttered open, seemed to focus.  He groaned again, rolled onto his side.  Adam helped as much as he could.  His angel was quickly recovering.  But Castiel was clearly distraught.  “Dean!” he cried, getting up to his hands and knees.  _“Dean!_   Crowley, you bastard!  _Dean!!”_   Howling in fury, the angel clenched his fists and pounded them into the rocky ground.  There was a loud crack and bits of rock flew.

            Adam ducked, throwing up an arm in front of his face to protect himself from flying debris.  Then he eyed Castiel, watching as the angel rocked back onto his heels, arching his back as he spread his wings and faced up to the sky.  The sound he made now seemed to make the ground shake.  Adam had never heard anything like it.  The angel’s true voice was deafening, drowning out Adam’s own shriek of pain as he clamped his hands over his ears.  “Castiel! Stop, buddy!  Please!  Stop!”

            Castiel panted.  He turned, looking over at Adam.  The blazing blue eyes seemed dazed, full of murderous rage.

            Adam dared to crawl over and grab him in a bone-crushing hug.  The angel’s wings made it awkward.  Adam compensated by gently, frantically stroking his fingers through them, and Castiel startled.  “Calm down, please, Castiel!” Adam pleaded.  “You remember what you told me?  You can’t draw attention to yourself like this!  Come on, buddy, just breathe.  In and out. Alright?”

            To his immense relief, the angel obeyed. Castiel seemed to slump in his arms, hands clinging to Adam as if desperate for an anchor.  Beneath Adam’s hands, the shadowy feathers were twitching, as if the angel was shivering.  Adam carded his fingers through the feathers.  Blake had always been able to relax him by stroking his hair, would it work on an angel’s wings?  Apparently. The angel’s body relaxed, his head drooping to rest on Adam’s shoulder.  “That’s it,” Adam soothed, continuing his ministrations.  “Calm down.  You need a clear head now!”

            Castiel whimpered.  Then he abruptly pulled away, leaning away from Adam as his wings vanished once more.  “Please don’t do that to me, Adam,” he said quietly.  “Please!  Just let me go, let me be for a moment!”

            “Sorry!  I was just trying to help!  Um, was that wrong?”

            “No, you did exactly the right thing, the only thing that could have calmed me.  I just need space, please!”

            Adam gave him his space.  He watched warily as Castiel got to his feet, looking blessedly normal again.  His angel turned his face towards the full moon and closed his eyes.  The silvery light made him look like the otherworldly being he was.  Adam waited patiently until Castiel seemed calm.  Then, he dared to speak.  “Castiel? What happened?”

            “I’m not sure.”  His angel seemed to be moving stiffly as he approached, helping Adam to his feet.  The blue eyes now looked stricken, almost lost.  “I think Crowley tricked us all!  Somehow, he did something to Dean, something that locked me in place through our link. Then he banished me, but I could still sense him, Adam!”  His hands clenched into fists.  “My Righteous Man, Crowley put his _hands_ on him, he...  He...!  _Dean!_ ”

            Adam’s stomach twisted into knots.  He jumped up, grabbed Castiel’s shoulders, and gave him a shake.  “Don’t angel out on me again!” he warned.  “Stop, just breathe!”

            Castiel obeyed.  Adam shook his head to clear the lingering dizziness.  Better.  Castiel, he knew, had shielded him from the worst of the effects of his broken link with Blake, as well as their landing here.  But what did that mean for Blake?  No, he told himself, Blake would be fine.  He’d made it through.  Blake was back with the band and Ketch.  Ketch was a bastard, but he’d protect Blake.  Blake was safe now, and they’d reunite soon enough.  But first, his angel desperately needed his help.  Still, something didn’t make sense.  Adam narrowed his eyes, looking at Castiel. “What do you mean, he banished you? What happened?”

            “Crowley, I imagine.” Castiel explained.  His voice had a slight tremor, but otherwise the angel was still and stiff.  “Somehow, he used my link with Dean to trap and then banish me.  When you grabbed hold of me, you were affected as well.  When I was banished, you went with me.  I heard you cry out, and barely recovered in time to break both links before they would have torn all four of us apart!”

            Adam felt cold.  “Ok, I do not like the sound of that.  What happened to Blake?!”

            “Adam, I want you to listen very carefully to me,” Castiel urged.  “I’m not sure where we are, but it’s likely very far from where we were.  But the spell worked.  Blake is back.  We both saw him come through.  Most importantly, it means he should be fine, so far as the draining spell goes.” 

            Adam sagged in relief.  “Oh, thank God!”  He eyed his angel.  “But what’s that mean for you?  You’re still here!  What happened to Dean?”

            Castiel paused.  “Adam, I think…  I don’t know why, but I think Dean is here, too.”

            “Wait, what?!”

            “When I was banished, I was still connected to him. That’s why Crowley was able to...” The angel closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 

            Adam gave him a little shake.  “What happened to Dean?  Why do you think he’s here?”

            “Because the last thing I felt before I broke our links was Dean’s presence, on this side of the portal.  He’s here, in our world.”

            Adam groaned, his suspicions confirmed.  “If Blake and Dean are both here, we can’t reach for them to open the portal from this side!  Which means you have _no way back!”_   Adam grew still.  “That means Plan B, doesn’t it?”  He swallowed hard and nodded.  “Alright. What do I have to do?”

            That, at last, seemed to break through to the angel. He pulled back, the blue eyes locked intently on Adam.  “Adam, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, but it’s vital that Blake and Dean are found. When both of our links were strained after I was banished, the portal would have collapsed.  Blake may be in some trouble, and Dean…”  Castiel grimaced.  “I’m afraid for Dean, Adam.  I broke both of our links when I sensed his presence in this reality, but not before I knew that Dean was being dragged just as Blake was!”

            “So you think they’re together?”

            “Unlikely.  They were dragged after us, but also thrown about to the sides.  And I can’t sense either one of them!  Dean is hidden from me the same way you are, Adam.”

            Adam winced in remembrance.  “Runes on the ribs, like you did to me at the safehouse?”

            “That’s correct.  But I can’t sense your Blake, either.  As I wasn’t there to alter Blake’s ribs the same way, I suspect your husband is currently sporting a new tattoo.”

            “Oh.”  Adam wasn’t sure how he felt about that.  “So, that means you can’t just find them?”

            “No.  I don’t know where they are, which means they’re also hidden from the hosts of Heaven.” The blue eyes looked anguished.  “But I know Dean’s in trouble, Adam!  The banishing came through him, and I think he got the worst of the effects of the broken links.  Dean’s been hurt, Adam!  He needs help!”

            “Then we need to move quickly,” Adam urged.  “I can do this, alright?  Everything we talked about!”  Adam cupped the back of his angel’s head and planted a kiss on his forehead.  “All this time, you’ve protected me, Castiel,” he said quietly.  “You’ve guarded me, fought and killed for me, done everything you could to keep me safe.  And now it’s my turn to repay the favor.  I’m ready!”

            Castiel’s expression became serious.  “You must be absolutely certain, Adam.  If you do this, it will forever alter you!  You’re sure?”

            “Yes!  Do it!”

            Castiel nodded.  And a moment later, the crater was filled with blue-white light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun yelled, “Fucking Crowley!” Is glad the spell worked. The ending sucked. The author should put up an MCD tag because the King of Hell needs to die. Wants Castiel to obliterate him, or Chuck should do it. When reminded that, in this AU, they never discovered who Chuck really was, announced he did not care.
> 
> Trivia Time!  
> Want to hear Castiel's true voice? This is what he sounds like saying "hello" to Dean for the first time! (Warning - there's a second or so of a very graphic flashback where Dean remembers how he died in this). This is "hello." Now imagine what he sounded like when Adam heard him screaming!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t8RKC4bMBK0
> 
> A million thanks to all who have stuck with me, especially those who have supported me through kudos, comments, likes/reblogs on Tumblr, e-mails, and IMs! You'll never know how much that means.
> 
> Real life about to hit, so the timing of this is fortunate, that I got it finished before that. Part three will be coming along in a week or so, and once again, we're back to anything goes!


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